2  mi 


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AN  AR'  1ST  IN  CRIME 


NEW  KNICKERBOCKER  NOVELS 


WftvyUT 


_  U  E  H 


BY  RODRIGUES  OTTOLENGUI 


An  Artist  in  Crime.  16°,  $1.00; 
paper,  50  cts. 

A  Conflict  of  Evidence.  16°,  $1.00 ; 
paper,  50  cts. 

A  Modern  Wizard.  16%  $1.00 ; 
paper,  sects. 

The  Crime  of  the  Century.  16°, 
fi.oo  ;  paper,  sects. 

Final  Proof,  or,  the  Value  of  Evi- 
dence. 16°,  $1.00  ;  paper,  50  cts. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME 


BY 


RODRIGUES   OTTOLENGUI 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

»7  WBST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET  24   BEDFORD  STREET,  STRAND 

&\>t  Jtmchrrbochtr  |!«gi 
1903 


COPYRIGHT,  1899 

BY 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

Entered  at  Stationers'1  Hall,  Lontitn 
BY  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Ube  Itnfclterbocfeer  press,  Hew  tftocbclle,  YU  V* 


CONTENTS. 


I.    A  GENTLEMAN  THINKS  HE  CAN  COMMIT 

A  CRIME  AND  ESCAPE  DETECTION      .  i 
II.     A  DARING  AND  SUCCESSFUL  TRAIN  ROB- 
BERY        16 

IIL     MR.   BARNES   DISCOVERS    AN    ARTSITIC 

MURDER 30 

IV.     DIAMOND  CUT  DIAMOND        ...  46 

V.     THE  SEVENTH  BUTTON  ....  56 

VI.     MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP        ....  75 
VII.     MR.  RANDOLPH  HAS  A  FIGHT  WITH  HIS 

CONSCIENCE  ......  95 

VIII.    LUCETTE 115 

IX.     THE  DIARY  OF  A  DETECTIVE          .        .129 

X.     ALI  BABA  AND  THE  FORTY  THIEVES     .  138 

XI.     MR.  BARNES  RECEIVES  SEVERAL  LETTERS,  154 

XII.     THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  RUBY           .        .  169 

XIII.  MR.  BARNES  GOES  SOUTH      .        .        .  189 

XIV.  AN  INTERRUPTED  WEDDING   .        .        .  208 
XV.     MR.  MITCHEL  EXPLAINS  A  FEW  THINGS,  223 

XVI.     MR.   BARNES    DISCOVERS    A    VALUABLE 

CLUE 239 

XVII.     A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY      .        .  255 

XVIII.     MR.  BARNES'S  NARRATIVE      .        .        .  273 

iii 

1732174 


AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   GENTLEMAN    THINKS    HE     CAN    COMMIT    A    CRIME   AND 
ESCAPE    DETECTION. 

"  JACK  BARNES  never  gets  left,  you  bet." 

"  That  was  a  close  call,  though,"  replied  the  Pullman 
porter  who  had  given  Mr.  Barnes  a  helping  hand,  in  his  des- 
perate effort  to  board  the  midnight  express  as  it  rolled  out 
of  Boston.  "  I  would  n't  advise  you  to  jump  on  moving 
trains  often." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  good  advice,  and  for  your  assist- 
ance. Here  's  a  quarter  for  you.  Show  me  to  my  section, 
I  am  nearly  dead,  I  am  so  tired." 

"  Upper  ten,  right  this  way,  sir.  It  is  all  ready  for  you 
to  turn  in." 

When  Mr.  Barnes  entered  the  ceach,  no  one  was  in 
sight.  If  there  were  other  passengers,  they  were  abed. 
A  few  minutes  later,  he  himself  was  patting  two  little 
bags  of  feathers,  and  placing  one  atop  of  the  other  in  a 
vain  attempt  to  make  them  serve  as  one  pillow.  He  had 

I 


2  AN   ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

told  the  porter  that  he  was  tired,  and  this  was  so  true  that 
he  should  have  fallen  asleep  quickly.  Instead,  his  brain 
seemed  specially  active,  and  sleep  impossible. 

Mr.  Barnes,  Jack  Barnes,  as  he  called  himself  to  the 
porter,  was  a  detective,  and  counted  one  of  the  shrewdest 
in  New  York,  where  he  controlled  a  private  agency  estab- 
lished by  himself.  He  had  just  completed  what  he  con- 
sidered a  most  satisfactory  piece  of  work.  A  large  robbery 
had  been  committed  in  New  York,  and  suspicion  of  the 
strongest  nature  had  pointed  in  the  direction  of  a  young 
man  who  had  immediately  been  arrested.  For  ten  days 
the  press  of  the  country  had  been  trying  and  convicting 
the  suspect,  during  which  time  Mr.  Barnes  had  quietly 
left  the  Metropolis.  Twelve  hours  before  we  met  him, 
those  who  read  the  papers  over  their  toast  had  been 
amazed  to  learn  that  the  suspect  was  innocent,  and  that 
the  real  criminal  had  been  apprehended  by  the  keen- 
witted Jack  Barnes.  What  was  better,  he  had  recovered 
the  lost  funds,  amounting  to  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

He  had  had  a  long  chase  after  his  man,  whom  he  had 
shadowed  from  city  to  city  and  watched  day  and  night, 
actuated  to  this  course  by  a  slight  clue  in  which  he  had 
placed  his  faith.  Now,  his  man  fast  in  a  Boston  prison, 
he  was  on  his  way  to  New  York  for  requisition  papers. 
As  he  had  said,  he  was  tired,  yet  despite  his  need  of  com- 
plete rest  his  thoughts  persisted  in  rehearsing  all  the  in- 
tricate details  of  the  reasoning  which  had  at  last  led  him 
to  the  solution  of  the  mystery.  As  he  lay  in  his  upper 
berth  awake  these  words  reached  his  ears  : 


AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME.  3 

"  If  I  knew  that  man  Barnes  was  after  me,  I  should 
simply  surrender." 

This  promised  to  be  the  beginning  of  an  entertaining 
conversation,  and  as  he  could  not  sleep>  Mr.  Barnes  pre- 
pared to  listen.  Extensive  experience  as  a  detective  had 
made  him  long  ago  forget  the  philosophic  arguments  for 
and  against  eavesdropping.  The  voice  which  had  attracted 
him  was  low,  but  his  ears  were  keen.  He  located  it  as 
coming  from  the  section  next  ahead  of  his,  number 
eight.  A  second  voice  replied  : 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  would.  But  I  would  n't.  You 
overestimate  the  ability  of  the  modern  detective.  I  should 
actually  enjoy  being  hounded  by  one  of  them.  It  would 
be  so  much  pleasure,  and  I  think  so  easy,  to  elude  him," 

The  last  speaker  possessed  a  voice  which  was  musical, 
and  he  articulated  distinctly,  though  he  scarcely  ventured 
above  a  loud  whisper.  Mr.  Barnes  cautiously  raised  his 
head,  arranging  his  pillows  so  that  his  ear  would  be  near 
the  partition.  Fortunately,  the  two  men  next  to  him 
had  taken  the  whole  section,  and  the  upper  berth  had 
been  allowed  to  remain  closed.  Mr.  Barnes  now  found 
that  he  could  readily  follow  the  conversation,  which 
continued  thus  : 

"  But  see  how  that  Barnes  tracked  this  Pettingill  day 
and  night  until  he  had  trapped  him.  Just  as  the  fellow 
supposed  himself  safe,  he  was  arrested.  You  must  admit 
that  was  clever  work." 

"  Oh,  yes,  clever  enough  in  its  way,  but  there  was 
nothing  specially  artistic  about  it.  Not  that  the  detective 


4  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

was  to  blame  ;  it  was  the  fault  of  the  criminal.  There  was 
no  chance  for  the  artistic."  Yet  Mr.  Barnes  had  used 
that  very  adjective  to  himself  in  commenting  upon  his 
conduct  of  this  case.  The  man  continued  :  "  The  crime 
itself  was  inartistic.  Pettingill  bungled,  Barnes  was  shrewd 
enough  to  detect  the  flaw,  and  with  his  experience  and 
skill  in  such  cases  the  end  was  inevitable." 

"  It  seems  to  me  either  that  you  have  not  read  the  full 
account  of  the  case,  or  else  you  do  not  appreciate  the 
work  of  the  detective.  Why,  all  the  clue  he  had  was  a 
button." 

"  Ah  !  Only  a  button — but  such  a  button  !  That  is 
where  I  say  that  the  criminal  was  inartistic.  He  should 
not  have  lost  that  button." 

"  It  was  an  accident  I  suppose,  and  one  against  which 
he  could  not  have  guarded.  It  was  one  of  the  exigencies 
of  his  crime." 

"  Exactly  so ;  and  it  is  these  little  accidents,  always 
unforeseen,  though  always  occurring,  which  hang  so  many, 
and  jail  so  many,  and  give  our  detectives  such  an  easy 
road  to  fame.  That  is  the  gist  of  the  whole  matter.  It 
is  an  unequal  game,  this  between  the  criminal  and  the 
detective." 

"  I  don't  catch  what  you  are  driving  at  ? " 

"  I  '11  give  you  a  dissertation  on  crime.  Attend  !  In 
ordinary  business  it  is  brains  versus  brains.  The  profes- 
sional man  contends  with  his  fellows,  and  if  he  would 
win  the  race  towards  fortune  he  must  show  more  brains. 
The  commercial  man  competes  with  other  tradesmen  all 


AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME.  5 

as  clever  as  himself.  So  it  goes  from  the  lawyer  to  the 
locksmith,  from  the  preacher  to  the  sign  painter.  It  is 
brains  rubbing  against  brains,  and  we  get  the  most  pol- 
ished thought  as  the  result.  Thus  the  science  of  honest 
living  progresses." 

"  What  has  this  to  do  with  the  criminal  class  ?  " 

"  One  moment.  Let  the  philosopher  teach  you  in  his 
own  way.  With  the  criminal  it  is  different.  He  is  matched 
against  his  superior.  Those  in  his  own  class  do  not  con- 
tend with  him  ;  they  are  rather  his  partners,  his  'pals,'  as 
they  term  it.  His  only  contention  therefore  is  with  the 
detective  who  represents  society  and  the  law.  No  man, 
I  suppose,  is  a  criminal  from  choice,  and  it  is  the  criminal's 
necessity  which  leads  to  his  detection." 

"Then  all  criminals  should  be  caught." 

"  All  criminals  should  be  caught.  That  they  are  not  is 
a  strong  argument  against  your  detective  ;  for  every 
criminal,  we  may  say  is  actuated  by  necessity,  and  therein 
lies  the  possibility  of  his  defeat.  For  example  :  You 
may  claim  that  the  expert  burglar  lays  his  plans  in  advance, 
and  that  the  crime  being  premeditated  he  should  be  able 
to  make  such  careful  pre-arrangements  that  he  could  avoid 
leaving  tell-tale  marks  behind  him.  This,  however,  is 
rarely  the  case,  for  this  reason  :  the  unexpected  often,  if 
not  always,  happens,  and  for  that  he  has  not  prepared. 
In  a  moment  he  sees  prison  ahead  of  him,  and  his  fear 
steals  away  his  caution,  so  that,  as  we  have  seen,  he  does 
leave  a  clue  behind  him." 

"  But  when  you  say  the  unexpected  happens,  you  admit 


6  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

the  possibility  for  that  to  occur  which  could  not  have 
been  premised,  and  therefore  could  not  have  been 
guarded  against." 

"  That  is  true  as  the  case  stands.  But  remove  the  neces- 
sity which  actuates  our  criminal,  and  make  of  him  simply 
a  scientific  man  pursuing  crime  as  an  art  !  In  the  first 
place,  we  get  an  individual  who  will  prepare  for  more 
accidents,  and  secondly,  would  know  how  best  to  meet 
emergencies  which  occur  during  the  commission  of  his 
crime.  For  example :  if  you  will  pardon  the  conceit, 
were  I  to  attempt  a  crime  I  should  be  able  to  avoid 
detection." 

"  I  should  think  that  from  your  inexperience  as  a  crimi- 
nal you  would  be  run  to  earth — well,  about  as  quickly  as 
this  man  Pettingill.  This  was  his  first  crime  you 
know." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  make  a  wager  to  that  effect  ?  " 
This  last  remark  fairly  startled  Mr.  Barnes,  who  instantly 
understood  the  meaning,  which,  however,  at  first  escaped 
the  other  listener.  He  waited  eagerly  for  the  reply. 

"  I  don't  grasp  the  idea.     Make  a  wager  about  what  ?  " 

"  You  said  that  were  I  to  commit  a  crime  I  should  be 
captured  about  as  quickly  as  Pettingill.  If  you  wish,  I 
will  wager  that  I  can  commit  a  crime  which  will  be  as 
much  talked  of  as  his,  and  that  I  will  not  be  captured,  or 
rather  I  should  say  convicted.  I  would  not  bet  against 
arrest ;  for,  as  we  have  seen  in  this  very  case,  the  inno- 
cent are  sometimes  incarc«rated.  Therefore  I  stipulate 
for  conviction," 


AH    ARTTST   IK  CRIVK.  7 

"  Do  I  understand  you  to  seriously  offer  to  commit  a 
crime  merely  to  decide  a  wager  ?  You  astound  me ! " 

"No  more  perhaps  than  Pettingill  has  surprised  his 
friends.  But  don't  be  alarmed ;  I  shall  assume  all  re- 
sponsibility. Besides,  remember  it  is  not  crime  that  is 
scowled  upon  in  this  century,  but  detection.  I  wager 
with  you  against  that.  Come,  what  do  you  say  ;  shall  it 
be  a  thousand  dollars  ?  I  want  a  little  excitement ! " 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  it.  At  least  you  shall  have  the 
excitement  of  paying  the  thousand  dollars  to  me ;  for 
though  I  think  you  are  not  really  intending  to  become  a 
criminal,  in  either  event  I  may  as  well  profit  by  your 
offer." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  'in  either  event '  ?" 

"  Why,  if  you  do  not  commit  a  crime  you  pay  ;  and  if 
you  do,  I  am  sure  that  you  would  be  caught.  Then, 
however  much  I  should  regret  your  disgrace,  I  warn  you 
that  I  should  cut  you  dead,  and  take  your  money." 

"  Then  you  accept  the  wager  ?  " 

"I  do!" 

"  Done.  Now  for  the  conditions.  I  am  to  have  one 
month  in  which  to  plan  and  commit  my  crime,  and  one 
year  for  avoiding  the  detectives.  That  is,  if  I  am  free  at 
the  end  of  one  year,  and  can  prove  to  you  that  I  com- 
mitted a  crime  within  the  stipulated  period,  I  win  the 
wager.  If  I  am  in  jail  awaiting  trial,  the  bet  cannot  be 
settled  until  the  law  has  had  its  way,  and  I  am  eithef 
proven  innocent  or  guilty.  Is  that  satisfactory  ?" 

"  Perfectly.    But  what  class  of  crime  will  you  commit  ? " 


8  AIT  ARTIST  IN  CKIUK. 

*  My  friend  you  are  inquisitive.  The  wager  is  on,  and 
my  boasted  caution  must  begin.  Therefore,  I  must  not 
tell  you  anything  of  the  nature  of  my  intended 
crime ! " 

"Why,  do  you  suppose  for  an  instant  that  I  would 
betray  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  that  idea  does  occur  to  me.  Listen.  As  I 
said  before,  the  necessities  of  the  criminal  prove  his 
Nemesis,  The  necessities  involve  the  object  of  the 
crime.  That  is  always  a  good  starting-point  in  following 
up  a  mysterious  case.  The  more  unusual  the  object  the 
better,  since  it  will  fit  fewer  people.  Plunder  is  the 
commonest  and  therefore  the  least  promising  to  trace 
from.  Revenge  is  common  also,  but  better,  because  the 
special  revenge  connected  with  the  deed  must  lead  to  the 
special  individual  most  likely  to  execute  such  revenge.  In 
this  instance,  I  mean  my  own  case,  the  object  of  the  crime 
is  so  unique,  that  the  detective  who  discovers  it  should 
be  able  to  convict  me.  A  crime  committed  to  decide  a 
wager  is  perhaps  new." 

"  Its  very  novelty  is  your  best  safeguard." 

"  Yet  there  are  two  ways  by  which  it  may  be  discovered, 
and  that  is  two  too  many.  Had  I  undertaken  this  affair 
secretly  there  would  really  have  been  but  a  single  way  for 
one  to  learn  my  secret, — my  own  confession.  As  men 
have  been  weak  enough  to  do  this  before  now,  I  should 
even  in  that  instance  have  taken  precautions.  But  with 
my  secret  in  the  possession  of  a  second  party,  the  position 
is  more  complex." 


AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME.  9 

"  I  assure  you  on  my  honor  that  I  will  not  betray  you. 
I  will  agree  to  forfeit  five  times  the  wager  in  such  an 
event/' 

"  I  prefer  that  you  should  be  perfectly  at  liberty  in  the 
matter.  I  expect  it  to  be  thus  :  in  your  own  mind  at  pres- 
ent you  do  not  think  that  I  shall  carry  out  my  purpose. 
Therefore,  your  friendship  for  me  is  undisturbed.  Then 
you  count  that,  if  I  do  commit  a  crime,  it  will  be  some 
trivial  one  that  you  may  bring  your  conscience  to  excuse, 
under  the  circumstances.  But  let  us  suppose  that  a 
really  great  crime  should  be  reported,  and  for  some 
reason  you  should  suspect  me.  You  will  hurry  to  my 
rooms  before  I  get  out  of  bed,  and  ask  me  flatly  whether 
I  am  guilty.  As  flatly  I  should  refuse  to  enlighten  you. 
You  would  take  this  as  a  confession  of  guilt.  You  would 
perhaps  argue  that  if  your  surmise  were  correct  you  would 
be  an  accessory  before  the  fact,  and  to  shield  yourself  and 
do  your  duty  you  would  make  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

"  I  am  beginning  to  be  offended,  Bob.  I  did  not  think 
you  would  trust  me  so  little  !  " 

"  Don't  get  angry,  old  man.  Remember  that  only  a 
few  minutes  ago  you  warned  me  that  you  would  cut  me 
dead  after  the  crime.  We  artistic  criminals  must  be  pre- 
pared against  every  contingency." 

"I  did  not  think  when  I  spoke.     I  did  not  mean  it." 

"  Yes,  you  did,  and  I  am  not  at  all  angry.  Let  it  be 
understood  then  that  you  will  be  at  liberty  to  repeat  the 
facts  about  this  wager  should  your  conscience  prick  you. 
It  will  be  best  for  me  to  expect  and  be  prepared  for  such 


10  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

action.  But  you  have  not  asked  what  the  second  danger 
of  discovery  is.  Can  you  guess  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  mean  as  you  suggested,  your  own 
confession." 

"  No,  though  that  really  makes  a  third  chance.  Yet 
it  is  so  simple.  Have  you  noticed  that  we  can  hear  a 
man  snoring  ?  " 

*'  No !  " 

"  Listen  a  moment !  Do  you  not  hear  that  ?  It  is  not 
exactly  a  snore,  but  rather  a  troubled  breathing.  Now 
that  man  is  in  the  third  section  from  us.  Do  you  see  the 
point  ? " 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  would  not  make  a  detective." 

"  Why,  my  dear  boy,  if  we  can  hear  that  fellow,  why 
may  not  some  one  in  the  next  compartment  be  listening 
to  our  tete-h-tete?  "  Mr.  Barnes  fairly  glowed  with  admira- 
tion for  the  fellow's  careful  consideration  of  every  point. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not.    Everybody  is  asleep." 

"  The  common  criminal  from  necessity  takes  chances 
like  that,  without  counting  on  them.  I  shall  not.  There 
is  a  possibility,  however  remote,  that  some  one,  in  Number 
Ten  say,  has  overheard  us.  Again  he  may  even  be  a 
detective,  and  worse  yet  it  might  be  your  Mr.  Barnes 
himself." 

"  Well,  I  must  say  if  you  prepare  against  such  long  odds 
as  that  you  deserve  to  escape  detection  !  " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  will  do.  But  the  odds  are  not  so 
great  as  you  imagine.  I  read  in  an  afternoon  paper  that 
Mr.  Barnes  had  remained  in  Boston  in  connection  with 


AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME.  It 

properly  securing  his  prisoner  during  the  day,  but  that 
he  would  leave  for  New  York  to-night.  Of  course  the 
newspaper  may  have  been  wrong.  Then  in  saying 
"  to-night  "  it  may  have  been  inaccurate  ;  but  supposing 
that  the  statement  were  true,  then  there  were  three  trains 
upon  which  he  might  have  started,  one  at  seven  o'clock, 
one.  at  eleven,  and  this  one.  One  in  three  is  not  long 
odds." 

"  But  even  if  he  is  on  this  train,  there  are  ten 
coaches." 

"  Again  you  are  wrong.  After  his  hard  work  on  this 
Pettingill  case  he  would  be  sure  to  take  a  sleeper.  Now 
if  you  recall  the  fact,  I  did  not  decide  to  go  to  New  York 
to-night  till  the  last  minute.  Then  we  found  that  we 
could  not  get  a  whole  section,  and  were  about  to  bunk 
together  in  a  lower  berth  when,  several  more  people  ap- 
plying, they  determined  to  put  on  another  coach.  There- 
fore, unless  Mr.  Barnes  secured  his  ticket  during  the  day, 
he  would  inevitably  have  been  assigned  to  this  coach." 

"  Had  you  any  special  reason  for  suggesting  Number 
Ten  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  know  that  Number  Six  is  unoccupied.  But 
just  as  we  started  some  one  came  in,  and  I  think  took 
the  upper  berth  of  Number  Ten." 

"  Mr.  Barnes  began  to  think  that  he  would  have  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  work  to  detect  this  man  in  crime, 
were  he  really  to  commit  one,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
he  knew  so  much  in  advance.  The  conversation 
continued ; 


12  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

"  Thus,  you  see,  there  are  two  ways  by  which  my  ob- 
ject may  become  known,  a  serious  matter  if  unguarded 
against.  As,  however,  I  recognize  the  possibilities  in  ad- 
vance, there  will  be  no  difficulty  whatever,  and  the  knowl- 
edge will  be  of  no  value  to  any  detective,  even  though  he 
be  your  Mr.  Barnes." 

"  How  will  you  avoid  that  danger  ?  " 

"  My  dear  boy,  do  you  suppose  for  an  instant  that  I 
would  reply  to  that,  after  pointing  out  that  a  detective  may 
be  listening  ?  However,  I  will  give  you  an  idea.  I  will 
show  you  what  I  meant  when  I  said  that  Pettingill  had 
blundered.  You  said  that  he  had  lost  only  a  button,  and 
thought  it  clever  in  Barnes  to  trace  him  from  the  button. 
But  a  button  may  be  a  most  important  thing.  If  I  should 
lose  one  of  the  buttons  of  my  vest,  whilst  committing  a 
crime,  Mr.  Barnes  would  trace  me  out  in  much  less  than 
ten  days,  and  for  this  reason,  they  are  the  only  ones  of 
the  kind  in  the  world." 

"  How  does  that  happen  ?  I  supposed  that  buttons 
were  made  by  the  thousand  ?  " 

"  Not  all  buttons.  For  reasons  which  I  need  not  tell 
the  possibly  listening  detective,  a  friend  travelling  abroad 
had  a  set  made  especially,  and  brought  them  back  to  me 
as  a  present.  They  are  six  handsomely  cut  cameos,  half 
the  set  having  the  profile  head  of  Juliet,  and  the  others 
a  similar  face  of  Romeo." 

"  A  romance  ? " 

"  That  is  immaterial.  Suppose  that  I  should  plan  a 
robbery  in  order  to  decide  this  wager.  As  necessity 


AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME.  IJ 

would  not  urge  me  either  as  to  time  or  place,  I  should 
choose  my  opportunity,  let  us  say  when  but  one  person 
guarded  the  treasure.  That  one  I  should  chloroform  and 
also  tie.  Next,  I  should  help  myself  to  the  designated 
plunder.  Suppose  that  as  I  were  about  to  depart  a  sleep- 
ing, uncalculated-for  pet  dog  should  jump  out  and  bark 
furiously  ?  I  reach  for  it  and  it  snaps  at  me,  biting  my 
hand.  I  grapple  it  by  the  throat  and  strangle  it,  but  in 
its  death  throes  it  bites  my  vest,  and  a  button  falls  to  the 
ground  and  rolls  away.  The  dog  is  at  last  silenced.  Your 
ordinary  burglar  by  this  time  would  be  so  unnerved  that 
he  would  hasten  off,  not  even  realizing  that  he  had  been 
bitten,  that  blood  had  flowed,  or  that  the  button  was  lost. 
Mr.  Barnes  is  sent  to  the  house  the  next  day.  The  lady 
suspects  her  coachman,  and  Mr.  Barnes  consents  to  his 
arrest,  not  because  he  thinks  him  guilty,  but  because,  as 
the  mistress  thinks  so,  he  may  be,  and  then  more  espe- 
cially, his  arrest  will  lull  the  fear  of  the  real  culprit.  Mr. 
Barnes  would  observe  blood  on  the  ground,  on  the  dog's 
mouth,  and  he  would  find  the  button.  From  the  button 
he  would  find  Mr.  Thief,  with  his  hand  bitten,  and  there 
you  are.'* 

"  But  how  should  you  avoid  all  that  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  were  I  really  wise,  I  should  not  have 
tell-tale  buttons  about  me  at  such  a  time.  But  let  us  sup- 
pose that  the  time  had  not  been  of  my  own  choosing,  then 
the  buttons  might  have  been  with  me.  Assured  as  I 
should  have  been  that  the  only  person  in  the  house  lay 
chloroformed  and  tied,  I  should  not  have  lost  my  nerve 


14  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

as  did  the  other  individual.  Neither  should  I  have 
allowed  myself  to  be  bitten,  though  if  the  accident  had 
occurred  I  should  have  stopped  to  wash  up  the  stain 
from  the  carpet  while  fresh,  and  also  from  the  dog's 
mouth.  I  should  have  discovered  the  loss  of  the  button, 
searched  for  and  recovered  it,  untied  the  victim,  and 
opened  the  windows,  that  the  odor  of  chloroform  could 
pass  off  during  the  night.  In  fact,  in  the  morning  the 
only  evidence  of  crime  would  have  been  the  strangled 
dog  and  the  absence  of  the  pelf." 

"  It  is  easy  enough  to  explain  your  actions  under  sup- 
posititious circumstances.  But  I  doubt  if  in  Pettingill's 
shoes  you  would  have  been  able  to  retain  your  presence 
of  mind,  and  recover  the  lost  button  which  led  to  his 
final  arrest." 

"  It  is  possible  that  you  are  right,  for  had  I  been  Pet- 
tingill  I  should  have  been  coerced  by  necessities  as  he 
was.  Yet  I  think  I  should  not  have  planned  such  a 
robbery,  choosing  my  own  time  as  he  did,  and  then  have 
taken  with  me  such  a  button.  But  from  Mr.  Barnes's 
standpoint,  as  I  said  before,  very  little  of  the  artistic  was 
needed.  The  button  was  constructed  of  a  curious  old 
coin.  Mr.  Barnes  went  the  rounds  of  the  dealers  and 
found  the  very  man  who  had  sold  Pettingill  the  coin. 
The  rest  was  routine  work." 

"  Well,  you  are  conceited,  but  I  don't  mind  making  a 
thousand  out  of  your  egotism.  Now  I  am  sl<*«py,  how- 
ever, so  good-night" 


AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME.  Ij 

"  Good-night,  old  man.  Dream  of  a  way  to  earn  an 
extra  thousand,  for  I  shall  win." 

For  Mr.  Barnes  himself  sleep  was  now  more  impossible 
than  ever.  He  was  attracted  to  this  new  case,  for  so  he 
counted  it,  and  was  determined  to  trap  the  individual 
who  wagered  against  his  acumen.  It  was  a  long  step 
towards  success  to  know  as  much  as  he  had  overheard. 
He  would  not  lose  sight  of  his  man  during  the  allotted 
month.  He  enjoyed  the  prospect  of  allowing  him  to 
commit  his  crime  and  then  quietly  taking  him  in  the  act. 
Carefully  and  noiselessly  he  dressed  himself  and  slipped 
out  of  his  berth.  Then  he  crept  into  one  opposite,  so 
that  he  could  have  his  eye  on  number  eight,  and  settled 
down  for  an  all-night  vigil. 

"  It  would  not  surprise  me  if  that  keen  devil  were  to 
commit  his  crime  this  very  night.  I  hope  so,  for  otherwise 
I  shall  have  no  sleep  till  he  does." 


CHAPTER  II. 

A   DARING    AND    SUCCESSFUL    TRAIN    ROBBERY. 

THE  train  was  just  approaching  Stamford,  and  from 
the  window  in  the  section  which  he  occupied  Mr.  Barnes 
was  watching  the  sun  glowing  red  over  the  hilltops,  when 
he  heard  approaching  him  the  guard  who  had  assisted 
him  to  jump  aboard  the  night  before.  The  man  was 
making  mysterious  gestures,  from  which  Mr.  Barnes 
understood  that  he  was  wanted.  He  arose  and  followed 
the  porter  to  the  smoking-room. 

"  I  think  you  called  yourself  Barnes,"  said  the  man, 
"  as  you  jumped  aboard  last  night." 

"  Yes,  what  of  it  ? " 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Barnes  the  detective  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because,  if  you  are,  the  conductor  wants  to  see  you. 
There  was  a  big  robbery  committed  on  the  train  during 
the  night." 

"  The  devil ! " 

"  Exactly,  but  will  you  come  into  the  next  coach  ?  " 

"Wait  a  minute."  Mr.  Barnes  went  back  into  the 
main  part  of  the  coach  and  tip-toed  towards  number 
eight.  Gently  moving  the  curtains,  he  peeped  in  and 
looked  long  and  earnestly.  He  saw  two  men  undoubtedly 

16 


A    DARING    AND   SUCCESSFUL   TRAIN    ROBBERY.         17 

sleeping  soundly.  Satisfied  therefore  that  he  could  leave 
his  watch  for  a  brief  period,  he  followed  the  porter  into 
the  next  coach,  where  he  found  the  conductor  waiting  for 
him  in  the  smoking-room. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Barnes  the  detective  ?  "  asked  the  con- 
ductor. Mr.  Barnes  assented. 

"  Then  I  wish  to  place  in  your  hands  officially  a  most 
mysterious  case.  We  took  on  a  lady  last  night  at  Boston, 
who  had  a  ticket  to  South  Norwalk.  As  we  were  ap- 
proaching that  point  a  short  time  ago  she  was  notified  by 
the  porter.  She  arose  and  dressed  preparatory  to  leaving 
the  train.  A  few  minutes  later  I  was  hurriedly  sum- 
moned, when  the  woman,  between  hysterical  sobs,  in- 
formed me  that  she  had  been  robbed." 

"  Of  much  ? " 

"  She  claims  to  miss  a  satchel  containing  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  in  jewelry." 

"  You  have  stated  that  adroitly.  She  claims  to  miss  ! 
What  evidence  have  you  that  she  has  met  with  any  loss 
at  all  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  cannot  tell  about  the  jewelry,  but  she 
did  have  a  satchel,  which  is  now  missing.  The  porter 
remembers  it,  and  we  have  searched  thoroughly  with  no 
success." 

"  We  have  stopped  at  New  Haven  and  at  Bridgeport. 
How  many  persons  have  left  the  train  ?  " 

"  No  one  has  left  the  sleepers." 

"  When  you  say  that  no  one  has  left  the  sleepers,  I 
suppose  you  mean  you  saw  no  one  leave  ?  " 


j8  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

"  No !  I  mean  just  what  I  said.  I  have  sent  the 
porters  through  the  coaches  and  they  report  that  all  our 
passengers  are  in  their  berths.  But  here  we  come  to  a 
point.  If  no  one  has  left  the  train,  then  the  thief  must 
be  aboard  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ! " 

"  The  woman  when  she  discovered  her  loss  concluded 
to  remain  aboard  and  go  on  to  New  York.  All  the  other 
passengers,  save  one,  are  booked  for  New  York.  That 
one  is  a  man,  and  he  is  now  dressing,  as  his  destination  is 
Stamford.  If  he  leaves  he  may  take  the  jewels  with  him, 
yet  what  am  I  to  do  ?" 

"  State  the  facts  of  the  case  to  him.  If  he  is  innocent 
he  will  willingly  submit  to  being  searched.  If,  however, 
he  refuses, — well  we  can  be  guided  by  circumstances. 
Call  him  in  here  now." 

A  few  minutes  later  a  foreign  and  distinctly  French- 
appearing  man  entered.  In  speech  he  disclosed  his 
origin,  but  the  accent  was  slight.  He  was  of  fine  appear- 
ance, dignified  and  gentlemanly. 

Mr.  Barnes  sat  at  the  window  looking  out.  The  con- 
ductor with  considerable  hesitancy  explained  the  case 
concluding  with  : 

"  You  see,  my  dear  sir,  this  is  an  awkward  business, 
but  we  are  so  sure  that  the  thief  is  still  aboard,  that " 

"  That  you  hesitate  to  allow  me  to  leave  the  train,  eh, 
Monsieur,  is  it  not  so  ?  Yet  why  should  there  be  any 
trouble  ?  An  honest  man  must  never  be  hurt  in  his  feel- 
ings when  he  is  asked  to  assist  the  law,  even  though  for 


A  DARING    AND   SUCCESSFUL   TRAIN    ROBBERY.        IQ 

the  moment  he  is  himself  a — what  you  call  it — suspect  ? 
In  this  case  it  is  so  simple,  if  only  the  honest  men  will 
make  no  trouble.  They  will  say  to  you — '  Search  me.' 
You  do  so,  and  at  last  one  comes  who  says,  '  You  insult 
me.'  That  one  is  of  course  the  thief,  eh,  Monsieur,  do  you 
not  agree  with  me?"  He  turned  towards  Mr.  Barnes, 
addressing  this  last  remark  to  him.  The  detective  looked 
at  him  a  moment  steadily,  as  was  his  wont  when  he 
meant  to  remember  a  face.  The  Frenchman  returned 
the  gaze  undisturbed. 

"  I  said  almost  the  same  thing  to  the  conductor  before 
you  came  in,"  said  Mr.  Barnes. 

"  Exactly  so.  Now  then  with  your  permission  I  will 
disrobe.  Look,  if  you  please,  most  carefully.  My  honor 
is  at  stake.  The  more  carefully  you  examine,  the  less 
suspicion  can  attach  to  me  hereafter." 

The  conductor  made  a  thorough  search,  emptying 
every  pocket  and  taking  every  precaution.  He  did  not 
expect  to  find  anything,  but  it  was  essential  that  extreme 
care  should  be  observed.  Nothing  was  found,  and  the 
man  resumed  his  clothing. 

"  Now,  if  you  please,  I  have  with  me  but  two  small 
satchels.  If  the  porter  will  bring  them  I  will  unlock 
them  for  you.  I  have  no  trunk,  as  I  only  went  to  Boston 
for  a  day's  trip." 

The  satchels  were  brought,  examined,  and  nothing 
found. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  suppose  I  am  free,  as  we  are  at  my 
station.  I  shall  only  remain  here  a  few  hours  and  will 


SO  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIM1. 

then  go  on  to  New  York.  If  you  should  wish  to  see  me 
again  I  shall  stop  at  the  Hoffman  House.  Here  is  my 
card.  Au  revoir." 

Mr.  Barnes  took  the  card  and  scrutinized  it. 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  "  asked  the  conductor. 

"  Think  ?  Oh,  you  mean  of  that  fellow.  You  need  not 
worry  about  him.  There  is  not  a  shadow  of  suspicion 
against  him — at  present.  Besides,  should  we  ever  want 
him,  I  could  find  him  again.  Here  is  his  name — Alphonse 
Thauret — card  genuine  too,  of  French  make  and  style  of 
type.  We  can  dismiss  him  now  and  turn  our  attention  to 
the  other  passengers.  Do  you  suppose  I  could  have  an 
interview  with  the  woman  ? " 

"  You  shall  have  it  if  you  wish.  We  will  not  consult 
her  wishes  in  the  matter.  The  affair  is  too  serious." 

"  Very  well  then  send  her  in  here  and  let  me  have  a 
few  words  with  her  alone.  Don't  tell  her  that  I  am  a 
detective.  Leave  that  to  me." 

A  few  minutes  later  a  tall  woman  apparently  about 
forty-five  years  of  age  entered.  She  was  not  handsome 
yet  had  a  pleasing  face.  As  she  seated  herself  she  looked 
keenly  at  Mr.  Barnes  in  a  stealthy  manner  which  should 
have  attracted  that  gentleman's  earnest  thought.  Ap- 
parently he  did  not  notice  it.  The  woman  spoke  first. 

"  The  conductor  has  sent  me  in  here  to  see  you. 
What  have  you  to  do  with  the  case  ?  " 

"  Nothing ! " 

"  Nothing  ?  Then  why " 

"  When  I  say  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  case,  I 


A   DARING    AND   SUCCESSFUL    TRAIN    ROBBERY.        21 

mean  simply  that  it  rests  with  you  whether  I  shall  under- 
take to  restore  to  you  your  diamonds  or  not.  I  look 
after  such  things  for  this  road,  but  if  the  loser  does  not 
wish  any  action  taken  by  the  road,  why  then  we  drop  the 
matter.  Do  you  wish  me  to  make  a  search  for  the  stolen 
property  ? " 

"  I  certainly  wish  to  recover  the  jewels,  as  they  are 
very  valuable  ;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  I  desire  to  place 
the  case  in  the  hands  of  a  detective." 

"  Who  said  that  I  am  a  detective  ?  " 

"  Are  you  not  one  ? " 

Mr.  Barnes  hesitated  a  moment,  but  quickly  decided 
on  his  course. 

"  I  am  a  detective,  connected  with  a  private  agency. 
Therefore  I  can  undertake  to  look  up  the  thief  without 
publicity.  That  is  your  main  objection  to  placing  the  case 
in  my  hands  is  it  not  ? " 

"  You  are  shrewd.  There  are  reasons,  family  reasons, 
why  I  do  not  wish  this  loss  published  to  the  world.  If 
you  can  undertake  to  recover  the  jewels  and  keep  this 
robbery  out  of  the  newspapers  I  would  pay  you  well." 

"  I  will  take  the  case.  Now  answer  me  a  few  questions. 
First,  your  name  and  address." 

"  My  name  is  Rose  Mitchel,  and  I  am  living  tempora- 
rily in  a  furnished  flat  at East  Thirtieth  Street.  I 

have  only  recently  come  from  New  Orleans,  my  home, 
and  am  looking  for  suitable  apartments." 

Mr.  Barnes  took  out  his  note-book  and  made  a  memo- 
randum of  the  address. 


22  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

"  Married  or  single  ?  " 

"  Married  ;  but  my  husband  has  been  dead  for  several 
years." 

"  Now  about  these  jewels.  How  did  it  happen  that 
you  were  travelling  with  so  valuable  a  lot  of  jewelry?" 

"  I  have  not  lost  jewelry,  but  jewels.  They  are  unset 
stones  of  rare  beauty — diamonds,  rubies,  pearls,  and  other 
precious  stones.  When  my  husband  died,  he  left  a  large 
fortune  ;  but  there  were  also  large  debts  which  swal- 
lowed up  everything  save  what  was  due  him  from  one 
creditor.  This  was  an  Italian  nobleman — I  need  not 
mention  his  name — who  died  almost  at  the  same  time  as 
my  husband.  The  executors  communicated  with  me,  and 
our  correspondence  culminated  in  my  accepting  these 
jewels  in  payment  of  the  debt.  I  received  them  in  Boston 
yesterday,  and  already  I  have  lost  them.  It  is  too  cruel, 
too  cruel."  She  gripped  her  hands  together  convulsively, 
and  a  few  tears  coursed  down  her  face.  Mr.  Barnes 
mused  a  few  moments  and  seemed  not  to  be  observing  her. 

"What  was  the  value  of  these  jewels  ? " 

"  A  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"  By  what  express  company  were  they  sent  to  you  ?  " 
The  question  was  a  simple  one,  and  Mr.  Barnes  asked  it 
rather  mechanically,  though  he  was  wondering  if  the  thief 
had  come  across  the  ocean — from  France  perhaps.  He 
was  therefore  astonished  at  the  effect  produced.  The 
woman  arose  suddenly,  her  whole  manner  changed.  She 
replied  with  her  lips  compressed  tightly,  as  though  labor- 
ing under  some  excitement. 


A    DARING    AND    SUCCESSFUL    TRAIN    ROBBERY.        23 

"  That  is  not  essential.  Perhaps  I  am  telling  too  much 
to  a  stranger  anyway.  Come  to  my  apartment  this  evening, 
and  I  will  give  you  further  particulars — if  I  decide  to 
leave  the  case  in  your  hands.  If  not  I  will  pay  you  for 
whatever  trouble  you  have  in  the  interim.  Good-morning." 

Mr.  Barnes  watched  her  leave  the  room  without  offering 
to  detain  her  or  making  any  comment  on  her  singular 
manner.  Without  rising  from  his  seat  he  looked  out  of 
the  window  and  strummed  on  the  pane.  What  he  thought 
it  would  be  difficult  to  tell,  but  presently  he  said  aloud, 
though  there  was  no  one  to  hear  him  : 

"  I  think  she  is  a  liar." 

Having  relieved  himself  thus,  he  returned  to  his  own 
coach.  He  found  two  gentlemen  in  the  toilet  room  allow- 
ing themselves  to  be  searched,  laughing  over  the  matter 
as  a  huge  joke.  He  passed  by  and  entered  his  own  com- 
partment, which  the  porter  had  put  in  order.  One  after 
another  the  few  passengers  arose,  heard  of  the  robbery, 
and  cheerfully  passed  through  the  ordeal  of  being  searched. 

At  last  his  patience  was  rewarded  by  seeing  the  curtains 
of  number  eight  moving,  and  a  moment  later  a  fine- 
looking  young  man  of  six-and-twenty  emerged,  partly 
dressed,  and  went  towards  the  toilet.  Mr.  Barnes  saun- 
tered after  him,  and  entered  the  smoking-room.  He  had 
scarcely  seated  himself  before  a  man  entered,  who  was 
evidently  the  other  occupant  of  section  eight.  Whilst  this 
second  man  was  washing,  the  conductor  explained  to  the 
other  about  the  robbery,  and  suggested  that  he  allow 
himself  to  be  searched.  By  this  time  the  conductor  was 


24  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

becoming  excited.  They  were  within  a  few  minutes  oi 
New  York,  and  all  his  passengers  had  been  examined 
save  these  two.  Yet  these  two  looked  more  aristocratic 
than  any  of  the  others.  He  was  astonished  therefore  to 
observe  that  the  young  man  addressed  seemed  very  much 
disturbed.  He  stammered  and  stuttered,  seeking  words, 
and  finally  in  a  hoarse  voice  addressed  his  companion  : 

"  Bob,  do  you  hear,  there  's  been  a  robbery  !  " 

His  friend  Bob  was  bending  over  the  water  basin,  his 
head  and  face  covered  with  a  stiff  soap  lather  and  his 
hands  rubbing  his  skin  vigorously.  Before  replying  he 
dipped  his  head  completely  under  the  water,  held  it  so 
submerged  a  moment  then  stood  erect  with  eyes  shut 
and  reached  for  a  towel.  In  a  moment  he  had  wiped 
the  suds  from  his  eyes,  and  looking  at  his  friend  he  an- 
swered most  unconcernedly  : 

"  What  of  it  ?  " 

"  But — but — the  conductor  wants  to  search  me." 

"  All  right.  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  You  are  not  the 
thief,  are  you  ? " 

"  No— but " 

"  There  is  no  but  in  it.  If  you  are  innocent  let  them 
go  through  you."  Then  with  a  light  laugh  he  turned  to 
the  glass  and  began  arranging  his  cravat.  His  friend 
looked  at  him  a  moment  with  an  expression  which  no  one 
but  Mr.  Barnes  understood.  The  detective  had  recog- 
nized by  their  voices  that  it  was  Bob  who  had  made  the 
wager  to  commit  a  crime,  and  it  was  plain  that  his  friend 
already  suspected  him.  His  fright  was  occasioned  by 


A   DARING    AND   SUCCESSFUL    TRAIN    ROBBERY.         25 

the  thought  that  perhaps  Bob  had  stolen  the  jewels  dur- 
ing the  night  and  then  secreted  them  in  his  clothing, 
where  if  found  the  suspicion  would  not  be  on  Bob.  Mr. 
Barnes  was  amused  as  he  saw  the  young  man  actually 
searching  himself.  In  a  few  minutes,  with  a  sigh  of  in- 
tense relief,  having  evidently  discovered  nothing  foreign 
in  his  pockets,  he  turned  to  the  conductor  who  stood 
waiting  and  expectant. 

"Mr.  Conductor,"  he  began,  "I  fear  that  my  conduct 
has  seemed  suspicious.  I  can't  explain,  but  nevertheless 
I  am  perfectly  willing  to  have  you  make  a  search.  In- 
deed I  am  anxious  that  it  should  be  a  thorough  one." 
The  examination  was  made  and,  as  with  the  others, 
nothing  was  found. 

"  Here  is  my  card.  I  am  Arthur  Randolph,  of  the 
firm  J.  Q.  Randolph  &  Son,  Bankers."  Mr.  Randolph 
stood  a  trifle  more  erect  as  he  said  this,  and  the  poor  con- 
ductor felt  that  he  had  done  him  a  grievous  wrong.  Mr. 
Randolph  continued  :  "  This  is  my  friend,  Robert  Leroy 
Mitchel.  I  will  vouch  for  him." 

At  the  name  Mitchel,  Mr.  Barnes  was  a  trifle  startled. 
It  was  the  same  as  that  which  had  been  given  by  the 
woman  who  had  been  robbed.  At  this  point,  Mr.  Mit- 
chel, a  man  of  forty-five,  with  a  classic  face,  spoke  : 

"  Thanks,  Arthur,  I  can  take  care  of  myself." 

The  conductor  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  addressed 
Mr.  Mitchel : 

"  I  regret  V2ry  much  the  necessity  which  compels  me  to 
ask  you  to  allow  yourself  to  be  searched,  but  it  is  my  duty." 


*6  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  understand  perfectly  that  it  is  your 
duty  and  have  no  personal  feelings  against  you.  Never- 
theless, I  distinctly  refuse." 

"  You  refuse  ?  "  The  words  came  from  the  other  three 
men  together.  It  is  difficult  to  tell  which  was  the  most 
surprised.  Randolph  turned  pale  and  leaned  against 
the  partition  for  support.  Mr.  Barnes  became  slightly 
excited  and  said  : 

"  That  amounts  to  a  tacit  acknowledgment  of  guilt, 
since  every  other  man  has  been  searched." 

Mr.  Mitchel's  reply  to  this  was  even  more  of  a  sur- 
prise than  what  he  had  said  before. 

"  That  alters  the  case.  If  every  one  else  has  submitted, 
so  will  I."  Without  more  ado  he  divested  himself  of  his 
clothing.  Nothing  was  found.  The  satchels  of  both 
men  were  brought,  but  the  search  was  fruitless.  The 
conductor  glanced  at  the  detective  helplessly,  but  that 
gentleman  was  looking  out  of  the  window.  One  who 
knew  Mr.  Barnes  could  have  told  that  he  was  fearfully 
angry,  for  he  was  biting  the  end  of  his  moustache. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  Grand  Central,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel. 
"  Are  we  at  liberty  to  leave  the  train  ?  "  Receiving  an 
acquiescent  nod  the  two  friends  walked  to  the  other  end  of 
the  coach.  Mr.  Barnes  abruptly  started  up  and  without 
a  word  jumped  from  the  train  as  it  slowly  rolled  into  the 
great  depot.  He  went  up  to  a  man  quickly,  said  a  few 
words  in  an  undertone,  and  both  went  back  towards  the 
train.  Presently  the  woman  who  had  been  robbed  came 
along,  and  as  she  passed  out  of  the  building  Mr.  Barnes's 


A    DARING    AND    SUCCESSFUL    TRAIN    ROBBERY.         27 

companion  followed  her.  He  himself  was  about  to  de- 
part, when,  feeling  alight  tap  upon  his  shoulder,  he  turned 
and  faced  Mr.  Mitchel. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  want  a  few  words  with 
you.  Will  you  breakfast  with  me  in  the  restaurant  ?  " 

"  How  did  you  know  that  my  name  is  Barnes  ? " 

"  I  did  not  know  it,  though  I  do  now  "  ;  and  he  laughed 
in  a  complacent  manner  which  jarred  on  Mr.  Barnes. 
The  detective  felt  that  this  man  was  getting  the  best  of 
him  at  every  turn.  But  for  all  that  he  was  only  the  more 
determined  to  trap  him  in  the  end.  Accustomed  to  think 
quickly,  he  decided  to  accept  the  invitation,  considering 
that  he  could  lose  nothing  and  might  gain  much  by  a 
further  acquaintance.  The  two  men  therefore  went  below 
to  the  eating-room,  and  seated  themselves  at  a  small 
table.  After  giving  the  waiter  a  liberal  order,  Mr. 
Mitchel  began  : 

"  Won't  it  be  best  for  us  to  understand  one  another 
from  the  outset,  Mr.  Barnes  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  I  think  you  do.  You  asked  me  a  moment  ago  how  I 
knew  your  name.  As  I  said,  I  did  not  know  it,  though  I 
suspected  it.  Shall  I  tell  you  why  ? " 

"Certainly,  if  you  wish." 

"  Perhaps  I  am  a  fool  to  show  you  your  first  blunder  in 
this  game,  since  you  are  evidently  enlisted  against  me  ; 
but  as  I  sent  my  friend  off  alone,  purposely  for  the  chance 
of  doing  so,  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation." 

"  Stop  a  moment,  Mr.  Mitchel.      I  am  not  such  a  fool 


28  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

as  you  take  me  to  be.  I  know  what  you  are  going 
to  say." 

"  Ah,  indeed !  that  is  clever." 

"  You  are  about  to  tell  me  that  I  made  an  ass  of  myself 
when  I  spoke  in  the  coach  upon  your  refusing  to  be 
searched." 

"  Well,  I  should  not  have  put  it  quite  so  harshly,  but 
the  fact  is  this  :  When  you  deliberately  followed  Ran- 
dolph into  the  toilet-room,  I  became  suspicious,  being,  as 
I  was,  at  your  heels.  When  the  conductor  spoke  to  me,  I 
refused  purposely,  to  watch  the  effect  upon  you,  with  the 
result,  as  you  now  see,  that  I  had  my  suspicion  confirmed. 
I  knew  that  you  were  a  detective,  and,  that  point  gained, 
there  was  no  further  reason  for  refusing  the  conductor." 

"  As  I  said,  I  acted  like  an  ass.  But  I  did  not  need 
this  warning.  It  will  not  occur  again,  I  assure  you." 

"  Of  course  I  see  now  that  you  overheard  our  conversa- 
tion last  night,  and  such  being  the  case  you  natuially 
suspected  me  of  this  robbery.  But  I  am  wondering,  if 
you  did  overhear  our  talk,  why  you  did  not  watch  me  all 
night."  To  this  Mr.  Barnes  made  no  reply.  "  I  have  one 
favor  to  ask." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  That  you  reveal  to  no  one  the  fact  that  I  have  under- 
taken to  commit  a  crime.  You  of  course  are  at  liberty  to 
play  the  ferret,  and  convict  me — if  you  can." 

"  As  surely  as  you  commit  a  crime,  so  surely  will  I  con- 
vict you  of  it,"  replied  Mr.  Barnes.  "  It  will  be  perhaps 
to  my  interest  to  keep  what  I  know  to  myself,  but  it  will 


A   DARING   AND  SUCCESSFUL   TRAIN   ROBBERY.        29 

not  do  to  make  any  promises  to  you.  I  must  be  free  to 
act  as  circumstances  direct." 

"  Very  good.  I  will  tell  you  where  I  am  stopping,  and 
I  give  you  permission  to  call  to  see  me  whenever  you 
please,  day  or  night.  I  have  a  suite  of  rooms  at  the  Fifth 
Avenue.  Now  let  me  ask  you  one  question.  Do  you 
think  that  I  committed  this  robbery  ?  " 

"  I  will  answer  you  with  a  question.  Did  you  commit 
this  robbery  ? " 

"  Capital.  I  see  I  have  a  foeman  worthy  of  my  st*-?l. 
Well — we  will  leave  both  questions  unanswered,  for  £he 
present." 


CHAPTER  III. 

MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS   AN     ARTISTIC    MURDER. 

WHILST  the  meal  was  progressing,  a  man  silently  passed 
through  the  room.  No  one  would  have  guessed  that  he 
had  any  special  motive  in  doing  so,  for  he  noticed  no  one. 
Neither  would  one  have  supposed  that  Mr.  Barnes  observed 
him,  for  he  had  his  back  turned.  Yet  this  was  the  same 
individual  who  upon  his  instruction  had  followed  Rose 
Mitchel  when  she  left  the  train. 

Breakfast  over,  the  two  men  started  to  leave  the  restau- 
rant. Reaching  the  stairway  which  leads  above  to  the 
main  floor,  Mr.  Barnes  courteously  stood  aside  to  allow 
his  companion  to  ascend  first.  Mr.  Mitchel,  however, 
with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  declined,  and  followed  Mr. 
Barnes.  Whether  either  had  any  special  design  in  this 
was  a  thought  occupying  the  minds  of  both  as  they  silently 
passed  up-stairs.  Mr.  Mitchel  had  a  slight  advantage, 
in  that  being  behind  he  could  watch  the  detective.  There 
seemed,  however,  to  be  little  to  see.  To  be  sure  the  man 
who  had  passed  through  the  restaurant  was  idly  leaning 
against  the  doorway,  but  as  soon  as  Mr.  Barnes's  head  ap- 
peared, and  certainly  before  he  could  have  been  noticed 
by  Mr.  Mitchel,  he  stepped  out  into  the  street,  crossed 
over,  and  disappeared  into  the  bank  building  opposite. 

30 


MR.   BARNES  DISCOVERS  AN   ARTISTIC   MURDER.       3\ 

Had  any  signal  passed  between  these  two  detectives  ?  Mr. 
Mitchel,  despite  his  shrewdness  in  sending  Mr.  Barnes 
up-stairs  ahead  of  him,  saw  none,  yet  this  is  what  occurred  : 
Mr.  Barnes  said  adieu,  and  walked  away.  Mr.  Mitchel 
stood  in  the  doorway,  gazing  after  him  till  he  saw  him 
enter  the  elevated  railroad  station  ;  then,  looking  carefully 
about,  he  himself  walked  rapidly  towards  Sixth  Avenue. 
He  did  not  glance  behind,  or  he  might  have  seen  the  man 
in  the  bank  step  out  and  walk  in  the  same  direction. 
They  had  been  gone  about  five  minutes  when  Mr.  Barnes 
once  more  appeared  upon  the  scene.  He  stopped  in  the 
doorway,  where  the  other  detective  had  been  leaning. 
Keenly  scanning  the  panelling,  his  eye  presently  rested 
upon  wUat  he  was  seeking.  Faintly  written  in  pencil 

were  the  words  "  No. East  Thirtieth."   That  was  all, 

but  it  told  Mr.  Barnes  that  Rose  Mitchel  had  been  fol 
lowed  to  this  address,  and  as  it  tallied  with  that  which  she 
herself  had  given  to  him,  he  knew  now  that  she  could  be 
found  when  wanted.  Wetting  his  finger  against  the  tip  of 
his  tongue,  he  drew  it  across  the  words,  leaving  nothing 
but  a  dirty  smudge. 

"  Wilson  is  a  keen  one,"  thought  the  detective.  "  He 
did  this  trick  well.  Saw  my  nod,  wrote  that  address,  and 
got  out  of  sight  in  an  instant.  I  wonder  if  he  can  keep  an 
eye  on  that  shrewd  scoundrel  ?  Pshaw  !  I  am  giving  the 
fellow  too  much  credit.  I  must  leave  it  to  Wilson  for 
to-day  anyway,  as  I  must  get  through  with  this  Pettingill 
matter."  Half  an  hour  later  he  was  at  head-quarters  talk- 
ing with  his  assistants. 


5>  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

Meanwhile  Wilson  followed  Mr.  Mitchel  to  Broadway 
then  down  to  the  Casino,  where  he  stopped  to  buy  tickets  ; 
then  out  again,  and  down  Broadway  to  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel,  which  he  entered.  He  nodded  to  the  clerk,  took 
his  key,  and  passed  up-stairs.  Evidently  he  lived  there. 
Wilson  of  course  had  no  further  definite  instructions. 
From  Mr.  Barnes's  backward  nod,  he  had  understood  that 
he  was  to  shadow  this  man,  and  under  the  circumstances 
it  was  his  simple  duty  to  do  this  until  relieved  by  further 
orders.  In  these  days  of  telephones  it  is  easy  enough  to 
make  hurried  reports  to  head-quarters  and  then  continue 
the  pursuit.  The  Fifth  Avenue  is  not  a  promising  place 
in  which  to  watch  a  man,  provided  the  man  knows  that  he 
is  being  watched.  It  has  three  exits — one  on  Broadway, 
and  one  each  on  Twenty-third  and  on  Twenty-fourth 
Streets.  Wilson  flattered  himself  that  Mr.  Mitchel  was 
unsuspicious,  and  therefore  whichever  way  he  might  leave 
the  building,  he  would  first  return  his  key  at  the  desk. 
He  consequently  kept  that  point  in  view.  Not  half  an 
hour  had  elapsed  when  his  man  appeared,  gave  up  his 
key,  as  expected,  and  passed  out  by  the  Broadway  door. 
Crossing  the  Avenue,  he  walked  down  Twenty-third 
Street,  eastward ;  Wilson  followed  cautiously,  going 
through  the  Park.  At  Third  Avenue  Mr.  Mitchel 
climbed  the  elevated  stairway,  and  Wilson  was  compelled 
to  do  the  same,  though  this  brought  him  unpleasantly 
close.  Both  men  took  the  same  train,  Mr.  Mitchel  in  the 
first  coach,  Wilson  the  last  At  Forty-second  Street  Mr. 
Mitchel  left  the  train,  and  crossed  the  bridge,  but  instead 


MR.   BARNES  DISCOVERS  AN   ARTISTIC  MURDER.      33 

oi  taking  the  annex  for  the  Grand  Central  Depot,  as  one 
is  expected  to  do,  he  slipped  through  the  crowd  to  the 
main  platform  and  took  a  train  going  back  down-town. 
Wilson  managed  to  get  the  same  train,  but  he  realized  at 
once  that  his  man  either  knew  that  he  was  followed,  or  else 
was  taking  extraordinary  precautions.  At  Thirty-fourth 
Street  station  the  trick  was  repeated,  Mr.  Mitchel  crossing 
over  the  bridge  and  then  taking  an  up-town  train.  What 
puzzled  Wilson  was  that  he  could  not  detect  that  his  man 
had  noticed  him.  It  seemed  barely  possible,  as  they  had 
encountered  crowds  at  both  places,  that  he  had  escaped 
unobserved.  He  was  more  satisfied  of  this  when,  at 
Forty-second  Street  again,  Mr.  Mitchel  once  more  left  the 
train,  crossed  the  bridge,  and  this  time  went  forward, 
taking  the  coach  for  the  Grand  Central.  Evidently  all 
the  manoeuvring  had  merely  been  prompted  by  caution,  and 
not  having  observed  his  shadow,  the  man  was  about  to 
continue  to  his  true  destination.  Mr.  Mitchel  had  entered 
the  coach  by  the  first  gate,  and  was  seated  quietly  in  the 
corner  as  Wilson  passed  on,  going  in  by  the  gate  at  the 
opposite  end.  A  moment  later  the  guard  slammed  the 
gate  at  Wilson's  end,  and  pulled  the  bell-rope.  As  quick 
as  a  flash  Mr.  Mitchel  jumped  up,  and  before  he  could  be 
prevented,  had  left  the  coach  just  as  it  started,  carrying 
away  Wilson,  completely  outwitted  and  dumbfounded.  As 
soon  as  the  train  stopped  he  darted  down-stairs,  and  ran 
back  towards  the  Third  Avenue  station  ;  but  he  knew  it 
was  useless,  as  it  proved.  He  saw  nothing  of  Mr. 
Mitchei 


$4  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIMR. 

Wilson  was  greatly  disheartened,  for  he  was  most 
anxious  to  stand  well  with  Mr.  Barnes,  his  chief.  Yet  in 
revolving  over  the  occurrences  of  the  last  half  hour 
he  could  not  see  how  he  could  have  prevented  the  escape 
of  his  man,  since  it  was  evident  that  he  had  intentionally 
acted  in  a  way  to  prevent  pursuit.  If  one  but  knows  or 
suspects  that  he  is  being  shadowed,  the  Third  Avenue 
elevated  road,  with  its  bridges  at  Thirty-fourth  and 
Forty-second  Streets,  offers  the  most  effectual  means  of 
eluding  the  most  skilful  detective.  If  Wilson  had  known 
anything  whatever  about  the  man  who  had  escaped 
him,  he  might  have  been  able  to  guess  his  destination,  and 
so  have  caught  up  with  him  again  by  hurrying  ahead  and 
meeting  him,  as  he  had  frequently  done  when  following 
noted  criminals  with  whose  haunts  he  was  acquainted. 
In  this  instance  he  was  utterly  in  the  dark,  so  could  do 
nothing  but  swear. 

If  he  could  not  report  where  Mr.  Mitchel  had  gone; 
at  least  he  might  discover  at  what  time  he  returned  to  his 
hotel,  and  possibly  Mr.  Barnes  might  receive  some  valua- 
ble hint  by  the  lapse  of  time.  With  this  idea,  Wilson 
returned  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  and  waited  patiently. 
He  telephoned  to  head-quarters  only  to  hear  that  Mr. 
Barnes  had  gone  back  to  Boston  to  bring  Pettingill  to 
New  York.  Seven  o'clock  arrived,  and  yet  his  vigil  was 
unrewarded.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  as  he  had 
seen  Mr.  Mitchel  purchase  tickets  for  the  Casino,  that 
might  be  a  good  place  to  watch,  though  of  course  there 
was  no  certainty  that  they  were  for  that  night  Upon  this 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS   AN    ARTISTIC   MURDER.       35 

meagre  hope  he  hastened  up-town  and  stationed  himself 
where  he  could  keep  an  eye  on  all  who  entered.  At  ten 
minutes  past  eight  he  was  about  concluding  that  his  task 
was  useless  when  a  cab  stopped,  and  to  his  intense  satis- 
faction he  saw  Mr.  Mitchel  alight,  and  then  hand  out  a 
handsomely-dressed  woman.  Wilson  had  prepared  him- 
self for  this  possibility,  by  purchasing  a  ticket  of  admis- 
sion, so  that  he  followed  the  couple  into  the  theatre, 
determined  not  to  lose  sight  of  his  man  again.  The 
opera  over,  he  found  it  easy  to  shadow  the  two,  as  the 
woman  declined  the  proffered  cab,  perchance  because  the 
exhilarating,  though  cold  night  air  made  a  walk  home 
inviting.  He  was,  however,  somewhat  amazed  at  last  to 
see  them  enter  the  very  apartment-house  on  Thirtieth 
Street  to  which  he  had  traced  Rose  Mitchel  in  the  morn- 
ing. His  mind  was  at  once  set  at  ease,  for  since  both  of 
his  birds  had  flown  to  the  same  dove-cot,  it  seemed  plain 
that  they  were  connected.  Evidently  it  was  to  this  house 
that  Mr.  Mitchel  had  gone  after  eluding  him  in  the 
morning.  At  least  so  argued  the  astute  detective. 

Wilson  had  waited  opposite  the  building  perhaps  an 
hour,  lulled  into  abstraction  of  thought  by  the  silence  of 
the  neighborhood,  when  he  was  startled  by  hearing  a 
piercing  shriek,  loud  and  long  continued,  which  then 
died  away,  and  all  was  still  again.  Whether  it  came  from 
the  apartment-house  or  one  of  the  private  dwellings  next 
to  it,  he  was  in  doubt.  That  it  was  a  woman's  cry  he 
felt  sure.  Was  it  a  cry  of  pain,  or  the  shriek  of  night- 
mare ?  He  could  not  tell.  That  solitary,  awful  cry, 


36  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

disturbing  the  death-like  stillness,  seemed  uncanny.  It 
made  him  shiver  and  draw  his  cloak  closer  about  him. 
If  it  had  only  been  repeated,  after  he  was  on  the  alert,  he 
would  have  felt  better  satisfied ;  but  though  he  listened  in- 
tently he  heard  nothing.  Ten  minutes  later,  another  thing 
occurred,  which  attracted  his  attention.  A  light  in  a  win- 
dow on  the  fifth  floor  was  extinguished.  There  was  cer- 
tainly nothing  suspicious  about  this,  for  lights  are  usually 
put  out  when  one  retires.  He  noticed  it  because  it  was  the 
only  light  which  showed  from  any  of  the  windows  during 
his  vigil.  Whilst  he  was  thinking  of  this,  the  door  oppo- 
site opened  and  a  man  emerged.  Judging  it  to  be  Mr. 
Mitchel,  he  hastily  followed.  That  there  might  certainly 
be  no  mistake,  Wilson  walked  rapidly  enough  to  reach 
the  Avenue  corner  ahead  of  the  man,  when  he  crossed, 
so  timing  himself  that  he  passed  in  front  of  the  other  just 
as  they  both  reached  the  street  lamp.  Taking  a  quick, 
but  thorough  look,  Wilson  saw  that  it  was  not  Mr. 
Mitchel,  so  abandoned  the  pursuit,  going  back  quickly 
towards  the  apartment-house.  He  had  proceeded  but  a 
few  paces,  when  he  met  Mr.  Mitchel  coming  rapidly 
towards  him.  Breathing  a  sigh  of  relief,  he  passed,  then 
crossed  the  street,  and  with  his  usual  skill  readily  kept 
Mr.  Mitchel  in  sight  till  he  entered  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel.  Wilson  saw  him  take  his  key  and  go  up-stairs,  so 
that  he  felt  that  his  vigil  was  over  for  that  night.  Look- 
ing at  his  watch  he  noted  that  it  was  just  one  o'clock. 
Going  into  the  reading-room  he  wrote  a  report  of  the 
day's  occurrences  and  then  calling  a  messenger,  sent  it  to 


MR.   BARNES  DISCOVERS   AN    ARTISTIC   MURDER.       37 

head-quarters  addressed  to  Mr.  Barnes.  This  done  he 
felt  entitled  to  hurry  home  for  a  short  sleep — short,  be- 
cause he  knew  it  would  be  his  duty  to  be  on  the  watch 
again  the  next  day,  and  until  he  received  further  instruc- 
tions from  Mr.  Barnes. 

Mr.  Barnes  had  immediately  after  his  arrival  obtained 
the  requisition  papers  for  which  he  had  telegraphed,  and 
which  he  found  awaiting  him.  With  these  he  had 
returned  to  Boston  the  same  day,  and  obtaining  his 
prisoner  succeeded  in  catching  the  midnight  train  once 
more,  arriving  in  New  York  with  the  loss  of  but  a  single 
day  from  the  new  case  which  so  absorbed  all  his  interest. 

Thus  the  morning  after  that  on  which  the  jewel  rob- 
bery had  been  discovered  he  entered  his  offices  quite 
early,  having  delivered  his  prisoner  at  police  head 
quarters. 

When  he  read  Wilson's  letter,  the  only  sign  which  he 
gave  of  dissatisfaction  was  a  nervous  pull  at  one  corner 
of  his  moustache.  He  read  the  paper  through  three 
times,  then  tore  it  carefully  into  tiny  pieces,  doing  it  so 
accurately  that  they  were  all  nearly  of  the  same  size  and 
shape.  Any  one  who  should  attempt  to  piece  together  a 
note  which  Mr.  Barnes  had  thus  destroyed,  would  have 
a  task.  Standing  by  the  window  he  tossed  them  high  in 
the  air  and  saw  them  scattered  by  the  wind. 

At  half  past  eight  o'clock  he  stood  before  the  apart- 
ment-house in  East  Thirtieth  Street.  The  janitor  was 
sweeping  from  the  pavement  a  light  snow  which  had  fallen 
in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning. 


38  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

Mr.  Barnes  without  speaking  to  the  man  walked  into 
the  vestibule  and  scanned  the  names  over  the  letter-boxes. 
None  of  them  contained  the  one  which  he  sought,  but 
there  was  no  card  in  No.  5.  Recalling  that  in  Wilson's 
report  a  light  had  disappeared  from  a  window  on  the  fifth 
floor,  he  knew  that  it  could  not  be  unoccupied.  To  get 
in,  he  resorted  to  a  trick  often  practised  by  sneak  thieves. 
He  rang  the  bell  of  No.  i,  and  when  the  door  silently 
swung  open  he  walked  in,  apologizing  to  the  servant  on 
the  first  landing  for  having  "  rung  the  wrong  bell,"  and 
proceeded  up  to  the  fifth  floor.  Here  he  rang  the  bell 
of  the  private  hall  belonging  to  that  special  apartment. 
He  could  have  rung  the  lower  bell  of  this  apartment  at 
the  outset,  but  he  wished  to  make  it  impossible  for  any- 
one to  leave  after  his  signal  announced  visitors.  He 
stood  several  minutes  and  heard  no  sound  from  within. 
A  second  pull  at  the  bell  produced  no  better  results. 
Taking  a  firm  hold  of  the  door-knob,  he  slowly  turned 
it,  making  not  the  slightest  noise.  To  his  surprise  the 
door  yielded  when  he  pressed,  and  in  a  moment  he  had 
passed  in  and  closed  it  behind  him.  His  first  idea  was, 
that  after  all  he  had  entered  an  empty  apartment,  but  a 
glance  into  the  room  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall, 
showed  him  that  it  was  a  furnished  parlor.  He  hesitated 
a  moment,  then  walked  stealthily  towards  that  room  and 
looking  in  saw  no  one.  He  tip-toed  back  to  the  hall- 
door,  turned  the  key,  took  it  from  the  lock  and  dropped1 
it  into  his  pocket.  Again  he  passed  forward  to  the  parlor, 
v^is  time  entering  it.  It  was  elegantly  and  tastily  fur 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS   AN    ARTISTIC    MURDER.       39 

nished.  The  windows  opened  on  the  street.  Between 
them  stood  a  cabinet  writing-desk,  open,  as  though 
recently  used.  Beside  it  was  an  enamel  piano-lamp, 
possibly  the  same  which  had  furnished  the  light  which 
Wilson  had  suddenly  missed  several  hours  before.  Oppo 
site  the  windows  a  pair  of  folding  glass  doors  communi- 
cated with  an  apartment  beyond.  These  were  closed. 
Peeping  through  a  part  of  the  pattern  cut  in  the  glass, 
Mr.  Barnes  could  just  distinguish  the  form  of  a  woman 
in  bed,  her  long  hair  hanging  down  from  the  pillow. 
This  sight  made  him  uncertain  as  to  the  next  move. 
This  was  possibly  Mrs.  Rose  Mitchel,  as  she  had 
announced  herself.  She  was  asleep,  and  he  had  entered 
her  apartment  without  any  warrant  for  doing  so.  True 
he  looked  upon  her  with  some  suspicion,  but  the  most 
innocent  frequently  suffer  in  this  way,  and  without  better 
reason  than  he  had,  he  knew  that  he  could  not  account 
legally  for  what  he  was  doing.  As  he  stood  by  the  glass 
doors  cogitating,  he  chanced  to  look  down.  Instantly 
his  eye  was  attracted  by  that  which  made  him  shiver,  as 
accustomed  as  he  was  to  strange  sights.  It  was  a  tiny 
red  stream,  which  had  managed  to  pass  under  the  door 
and  had  then  run  along  the  edge  of  the  carpet  for 
the  space  of  a  few  inches.  Instantly  he  stooped,  dipped 
his  finger  into  it,  and  then  ejaculated  under  his  breath  : 

"Blood,  and  clotted." 

Standing  upright,  he  once  more  peered  into  the  room. 
The  figure  in  bed  had  not  moved.  Without  further  hesi- 
tation he  slowly  slid  the  doors  apart.  One  glance  within. 


40  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

and  murmuring  the  single  word  "  Murder,"  Mr.  Barnes 
was  no  longer  slow  in  his  actions.  Stepping  across  a  big 
pool  of  blood  which  stained  the  carpet,  he  stood  at  the 
side  of  the  bed.  He  recognized  the  features  of  the 
woman  who  had  claimed  that  she  had  been  robbed  of  her 
diamonds.  She  seemed  sleeping,  save  that  there  was  an 
expression  of  pain  on  the  features,  a  contraction  of  the 
skin  between  the  eyebrows,  and  one  corner  of  the  mouth 
drawn  aside,  the  whole  kept  in  this  position  by  the  rigid- 
ity of  death.  The  manner  of  her  death  was  as  simple  as 
it  was  cruel.  Her  throat  had  been  cut  as  she  slept. 
This  seemed  indicated  by  the  fact  that  she  was  clad  in 
her  night-dress.  One  thing  that  puzzled  Mr.  Barnes  at 
once,  was  the  pool  of  blood  near  the  door.  It  was  fully 
six  feet  from  the  head  of  the  bed,  and  whilst  there  was 
another  just  by  the  bedstead,  formed  by  blood  which 
had  trickled  from  the  wound,  running  down  the  sheets 
and  so  dropping  to  the  floor,  the  two  pools  did  not 
communicate. 

"  Well,"  thought  Mr.  Barnes,  "  I  am  first  on  the  scene 
this  time,  and  no  busybodies  shall  tumble  things  about 
till  I  have  studied  their  significance." 

This  room  had  not  been  designed  for  a  sleeping  apart- 
ment but  rather  as  a  dining-room,  which,  upon  occasion, 
could  be  opened  into  the  parlor,  converting  the  two  into 
one.  There  was  one  window  upon  an  air-shaft,  and  in 
an  angle  was  a  handsome  carved  oak  mantel  with  fire- 
place below.  Mr.  Barnes  raised  the  curtain  over  the 
window,  letting  in  more  light.  Looking  around  he  noticed 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS   AN    ARTISTIC    MURDER.       41 

almost  immediately  two  things  :  first,  that  a  basin  stood  on 
a  washstand  half  filled  with  water,  the  color  of  which 
plainly  indicated  that  the  murderer  had  washed  off  tell- 
tale marks  before  taking  his  departure.  Second,  that  in 
the  fireplace  was  a  pile  of  ashes. 

"  The  scoundrel  has  burned  evidence  against  him,  and 
deliberately  washed  the  blood  from  his  person  before 
going  away.  Let  me  see,  what  was  it  that  Mitchel  said  : 
'  I  should  have  stopped  to  wash  the  stain  from  the  carpet 
whilst  fresh,  and  also  from  the  dog's  mouth.'  That  is 
what  he  told  his  friend  he  would  do  if  bitten  whilst  com- 
mitting a  crime.  In  this  instance  the  '  stain  on  the  carpet ' 
was  too  much  for  him,  but  he  washed  it  from  himself. 
Can  it  be  that  a  man  lives  who,  contemplating  a  deed  of 
this  character,  would  make  a  wager  that  he  would  not  be 
detected.  Bah.  It  is  impossible."  Thus  thought  Mr. 
Barnes  as  he  studied  the  evidence  before  him.  He  next 
turned  to  the  woman's  clothing  which  lay  on  a  chair.  He 
rummaged  through  the  pocket,  but  found  nothing.  In 
handling  the  petticoat  he  noticed  that  a  piece  had  been 
cut  from  the  band.  Examining  the  other  garments  he 
soon  saw  that  the  same  had  been  done  to  them  all.  Like 
a  flash  an  idea  struck  him.  Going  over  to  the  bed  he 
searched  for  some  mark  on  the  garments  which  were  on 
the  corpse.  He  could  find  none  until  he  lifted  the  body 
up  and  turned  it  over,  when  he  'found  that  a  piece  had 
been  cut  from  the  night-dress. 

"  That  accounts  for  the  blood  by  the  door,"  thought 
Mr.  Barnes.  "  He  took  her  out  of  the  bed  to  get  her  nearer 


42  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

to  the  light,  so  that  he  could  find  the  initials  marked  on  the 
clothing.  Whilst  she  lay  by  the  door  the  blood  flowed 
and  accumulated.  Then  he  put  her  back  in  bed  so  that 
he  would  not  need  to  step  over  her  in  walking  about  the 
room.  What  a  calculating  villain.  There  is  one  signifi- 
cant fact  here.  Her  name  cannot  have  been  Rose  Mit- 
chel,  or  there  would  have  been  no  reason  for  destroying 
these  marks,  since  she  had  given  that  name  to  several." 

Mr.  Barnes  next  brushed  the  charred  ashes  from  the 
grate  upon  a  newspaper,  and  carried  them  to  the  window 
in  the  front  room.  His  examination  satisfied  him  of  two 
things  ;  the  murderer  had  burned  the  bits  of  cloth  cut 
from  the  various  garments,  and  also  a  number  of  letters. 
That  the  fellow  was  studiously  careful  was  plain  from  the 
fact  that  the  burning  had  been  thoroughly  done  ;  nothing 
had  escaped  the  flame  save  two  buttons  with  a  bit  of  cloth 
attached,  and  various  corners  of  envelopes.  With  disgust 
Mr.  Barnes  threw  the  ashes  back  where  he  had  found 
them. 

Next  he  paid  his  attention  to  the  cabinet  desk  which 
stood  open.  He  pulled  out  all  the  drawers,  and  peered 
into  every  nook  and  cranny,  but  his  search  was  fruitless. 
He  found  nothing  but  blank  paper  and  envelopes,  and 
these  of  common  kind. 

Once  more  returning  to  the  room  where  the  corpse  lay, 
he  noticed  a  trunk  from  which  protruded  a  part  of  a  gar- 
ment. Raising  the  lid  he  found  everything  within  in  a 
promiscuous  pile.  Evidently  it  had  been  hastily  searched 
and  carelessly  repacked.  Mr.  Barnes  took  each  article 


MR.    BARNES  DISCOVERS   AN    ARTISTIC    MURDER.       43 

out  and  examined  it  closely.  Everything  upon  which  a 
name  might  have  been  written  showed  a  place  where  a 
piece  had  been  cut  out.  "  There  must  be  some  good  reason 
for  hiding  this  woman's  identity,  or  the  scoundrel  would 
not  have  been  so  thorough  in  his  work,"  thought  Mr. 
Barnes.  Just  then  in  replacing  the  clothing  he  heard  a 
crinkling  sound  which  indicated  that  a  bit  of  paper  was 
in  the  pocket  of  the  garment.  Hastily  he  withdrew  it, 
and  was  delighted  to  observe  writing.  "  A  clue  at  last," 
he  murmured,  hurrying  to  the  front-room  window  to  read 
it.  For  what  he  found  see  p.  44. 

This  was  all,  no  name  being  signed.  Mr.  Barnes  re- 
gretted this  last  fact,  but  felt  that  he  held  a  most  impor- 
tant paper  in  his  hand,  since  it  seemed  to  be  corroborative 
of  the  woman's  statement  that  she  had  lost  a  lot  of  unset 
jewels.  It  was  of  great  value  to  have  so  minute  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  stolen  gems.  Folding  the  paper  carefully,  he 
placed  it  in  his  wallet,  and  then  returned  to  the  vicinity 
of  the  corpse.  Looking  closely  at  the  cut  in  the  neck, 
the  detective  determined  that  the  assassin  had  used  an 
ordinary  pocket-knife,  for  the  wound  was  neither  deep 
nor  long.  It  severed  the  jugular  vein,  which  seemed  to 
have  been  the  aim  of  the  murderer.  It  was  from  this 
circumstance  that  the  detective  decided  that  the  woman 
had  been  attacked  as  she  slept.  This  aroused  the  question 
"  Did  the  murderer  have  the  means  of  entering  the  house 
without  attracting  attention  ?  Either  he  must  have 
had  a  night-key,  or  else  some  one  must  have  admitted 
him."  Mr.  Barnes  started  as  the  thought  recurred  tQ 


1  "       '  ' 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS    AN    ARTISTIC    MURDER.       45 

him  that  Wilson  had  seen  Mr.  Mitchel  enter  the  house 
some  time  before  the  scream  was  heard,  and  depart  some 
time  after.  Was  this  the  woman  who  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  theatre  ?  If  so,  how  could  she  have  retired 
and  fallen  to  sleep  so  quickly  ?  Evidently  further  light 
must  be  thrown  upon  this  aspect  of  the  case. 

Whilst  meditating,  the  detective's  eye  roamed  about  the 
room,  and  finally  rested  upon  a  shining  object  which  lay 
on  the  floor  near  the  trunk.  A  ray  of  light  from  the 
front  window  just  reached  it  and  made  it  glitter.  Mr. 
Barnes  looked  at  it  for  some  moments  mechanically, 
stooping  presently  to  pick  it  up,  with  little  thought  of 
what  he  did.  He  had  scarcely  examined  it,  however,  be- 
fore a  gleam  of  triumph  glistened  in  his  eye.  He  held 
in  his  hand  a  button,  which  was  a  cut  cameo  upon  which 
was  carved  the  profile  head  of  a  woman,  beneath  which 
appeared  the  name  "  Juliet." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DIAMOND   CUT    DIAMOND. 

MR.  BARNES,  after  discovering  the  cameo  button,  im- 
mediately left  the  apartment.  With  little  loss  of  time  he 
reached  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel.  He  found  Wilson  sit- 
ting in  the  lobby,  and  learned  from  him  that  Mr.  Mitchel 
had  not  yet  come  down-stairs.  He  made  his  subordinate 
happy,  by  complimenting  him  upon  his  work,  and  exon- 
erating him  from  blame  because  of  his  having  lost  his 
Mian  for  a  few  hours  the  day  before.  With  the  button  in 
his  pocket,  Mr.  Barnes  found  it  easy  to  be  good-natured. 
If  the  truth  were  known,  he  was  chuckling  to  himself. 
The  thought  which  proved  such  a  fund  of  merriment  was 
the  idea  that  his  man  up-stairs  had  proven  himself  just  as 
human  as  ordinary  criminals,  since  he  had  left  behind 
him  the  very  tell-tale  mark  which  he  had  boasted  would 
not  be  found  after  he  had  committed  his  crime.  Exter- 
nally, however,  there  was  no  sign  to  show  that  Mr.  Barnes 
was  in  any  way  excited.  He  calmly  asked  at  the  desk  for 
Mr.  Mitchel,  and  sent  up  his  card  just  as  any  ordinary 
visitor  might  have  done.  In  a  few  moments  the  hall-boy 
returned  with  the  curt  message,  "  Come  up." 

Mr.  Barnes  was  shown  up  one  flight  of  stairs  into  a 
suite  of  two  rooms  and  a  bath,  overlooking  Twenty-third 

46 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND.  47 

Street.  The  room  which  he  passed  into  from  the  hall 
was  fitted  up  like  a  bachelor's  parlor.  Comfortable 
stuffed  chairs  and  two  sofas,  a  folding  reading-chair,  an 
upright  piano  in  mahogany  case  with  handsome  piano- 
lamp  beside  it,  a  carved  centre-table  on  which  stood  a 
reading-lamp,  cigar  case  in  bronze,  photo-albums,  hand- 
some pictures  on  the  walls  in  gold  frames,  elegant  vases 
on  the  mantel,  an  onyx  clock,  a  full-sized  figure  of  a 
Moor  carved  in  wood  serving  as  a  card-receiver, — in  fact 
everything  about  the  place  was  significant  of  wealth,  lux- 
ury, and  refinement.  Could  this  be  the  den  of  a  mur- 
derer ?  It  seemed  not,  unless  there  might  be  some 
powerful  hidden  motive,  which  would  make  a  man  who 
was  evidently  a  gentleman,  stoop  to  such  a  crime.  Ac- 
cording to  Mr.  Barnes's  experience  such  a  motive  must 
involve  a  woman.  As  yet  there  was  no  woman  in  this 
case,  save  the  corpse  which  he  had  just  left.  All  this 
flashed  through  the  detective's  mind  as  he  noted  his  sur- 
roundings in  a  few  swift  glances.  Then  he  heard  a  voice 
from  the  next  room  say  : 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Barnes  :  we  must  not  stand  upon  cere- 
mony with  one  another." 

Mr.  Barnes  in  answer  to  the  invitation  crossed  into  the 
adjoining  room  and  noticed  at  once  that  the  sleeping 
apartment  was  as  luxurious  as  the  parlor.  Mr.  Mitchel 
was  standing  in  front  of  a  mirror  shaving  himself,  being 
robed  in  a  silk  morning  wrapper. 

"  Pardon  this  intrusion,"  began  Mr.  Barnes.  "  But  you 
told  me  I  might  call  at  any  time,  and " 


48  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  No  excuses  necessary,  except  from  me.  But  I  must 
finish  shaving,  you  know.  A  man  can't  talk  with  lather 
on  one  side  of  his  face." 

"Certainly  not.     Don't  hurry,  I  can  wait." 

"  Thank  you.  Take  a  seat.  You  will  find  that  arm- 
chair by  the  bed  comfortable.  This  is  an  odd  hour  to  be 
making  one's  toilet  but  the  fact  is  I  was  out  late  last  night." 

"  At  the  club,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  wishing  to 
see  if  Mr.  Mitchel  would  lie  to  him.  In  this  he  was 
disappointed,  for  the  reply  was  : 

"  No,  I  went  to  the  Casino.  Lillian  Russell  you  know 
has  returned.  I  had  promised  a  friend  to  go,  so  we 
went." 

"  A  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Are  you  not  getting  inquisitive  ?  No,  not  a  gentle- 
man, but  a  lady.  In  fact,  that  is  her  picture  on  that 
easel." 

Mr.  Barnes  looked,  and  saw  an  oil  painting  represent- 
ing a  marvellously  beautiful  female  head.  A  brunette  of 
strong  emotions  and  great  will  power  if  her  portrait  were 
truthful.  Here  was  a  significant  fact.  Mr.  Mitchel 
said  that  he  had  been  to  the  Casino  with  this  woman. 
Wilson  claimed  that  they  had  gone  to  the  house  where  the 
murdered  woman  lay.  It  would  seem  that  Mr.  Mitchel's 
friend  must  live  there,  and  thus  he  had  gained  access 
the  night  before.  Did  he  know  that  the  other  also  lived 
there,  and  did  he  go  into  her  apartment  after  leaving  his 
companion  ?  As  this  passed  through  Mr.  Barnes's  mind 
his  eyes  wandered  across  the  bed.  He  saw  a  waistcoat 


DIAMOND    CUT   DIAMOND.  49 

upon  which  lie  observed  two  buttons  similar  to  the  one 
which  he  had  secreted  in  his  pocket.  Stealthily  he 
reached  his  hand  towards  the  bed,  but  his  fingers  had 
scarcely  touched  the  waistcoat,  when  Mr.  Mitchel  said, 
without  turning  from  his  shaving  : 

"There  is  no  money  in  that  waistcoat,  Mr.  Barnes." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  insinuate,"  said  Mr.  Barnes 
angrily,  withdrawing  his  hand  quickly.  Mr.  Mitchel 
paused  a  moment  before  replying,  deliberately  made  one 
or  two  more  sweeps  with  his  razor,  then  turned  and 
faced  the  detective. 

"  I  mean,  Mr.  Barnes,  that  you  forgot  that  I  was  look- 
ing into  a  mirror." 

"  Your  remark  indicated  that  I  meant  to  steal." 

"  Did  it  ?  I  am  sorry.  But  really  you  should  not 
adopt  a  thief's  stealthy  methods  if  you  are  so  sensitive. 
When  I  invite  a  gentleman  into  my  private  room,  I  do  not 
expect  to  have  him  fingering  my  clothing  whilst  my  back 
is  turned." 

"  Take  care,  Mr.  Mitchel,  you  are  speaking  to  a  detec- 
tive. If  I  did  stretch  my  hand  towards  your  clothing  it 
'vas  with  no  wrong  intent  and  you  know  it." 

"Certainly  I  do,  and  what  is  more  I  know  just  what 
you  were  wishing  to  do.  You  must  not  get  angered  so 
easily.  I  should  not  have  used  the  words  which  I  did, 
but  tcv  tell  you  the  truth  I  was  piqued." 

"I  don't  understand." 

"  It  hurt  my  feelings  to  have  you  treat  me  just  like  an 
ordinary  crl  inal.  That  you  should  think  I  would  let 

4 


50  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

you  come  in  here  and  make  whatever  examinations  yoL 
have  in  your  mind,  right  before  my  very  eyes,  wounded 
my  pride.  I  never  should  have  turned  my  back  upon 
you  except  that  I  faced  a  mirror.  I  told  you  I  know 
what  you  wished  to  do.  It  was  to  examine  the  buttons 
on  my  vest,  was  it  not  ?  " 

Mr.  Barnes  was  staggered  but  did  not  show  it.  Calmly 
he  said  : 

"  As  you  know,  I  overheard  your  conversation  on  the 
train.  You  spoke  of  having  a  set  of  five  curious  buttons 
and " 

"  Pardon  me,  I  said  six,  not  five."  Once  more  Mr. 
Barnes  had  failed  to  trap  the  man.  He  suggested  five, 
hoping  that  Mr.  Mitchel  might  claim  that  to  have  been 
the  original  number,  thus  eliminating  the  lost  one. 

"  Of  course,  you  did  say  six,  now  I  remember,"  he 
continued,  "and  I  think  you  will  admit  it  was  not 
unnatural  curiosity  which  led  me  to  wish  to  see  them, 
that — that — well  that  I  might  recognize  them  again." 

"  A  very  laudable  intent.  But  my  dear  Mr.  Barnes,  I 
have  told  you  that  you  may  call  upon  me  at  any  time, 
and  ask  me  any  questions  you  please.  Why  did  you  not 
frankly  ask  me  to  show  you  the  buttons  ?  '* 

"  I  should  have  done  so.     I  do  so  now." 

*'  They  are  in  the  vest.  You  may  examine  them  if 
you  desire  it." 

Mr.  Barnes  took  up  the  vest,  and  was  puzzled  to  find 
six  buttons,  three  of  Juliet  and  three  of  Romeo.  Still 
be  was  satisfied,  for  they  were  identical  with  the  one  in 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMONIX  5§ 

his  pocket.  It  occurred  to  him  that  this  man  who  wa* 
so  careful  in  his  precautions,  might  have  lied  as  to  the 
number  in  the  set,  and  have  said  six  when  in  reality 
there  were  seven.  A  few  questions  about  the  buttons 
seemed  opportune. 

"These  are  very  beautiful,  Mr.  Mitchel,  and  unique 
too.  I  have  never  heard  of  cameo  buttons  before.  I 
think  you  said  they  were  made  expressly  for  you." 

Mr.  Mitchel  dropped  into  a  cushioned  rocker  before 
he  replied : 

"  These  buttons  were  made  for  me,  and  they  are  ex- 
quisite specimens  of  the  graver's  art.  Cameo  buttons, 
however,  are  not  so  uncommon  as  you  suppose,  though 
they  are  more  usually  worn  by  women,  and,  in  fact,  it 
was  a  woman's  idea  to  have  these  cut.  I  should  not 
have " 

"  By  Jove  ! "  said  Mr.  Barnes, "  the  Romeo  buttons  are 
copies  from  your  likeness,  and  good  portraits  too." 

"  Ah  !     You  have  noticed  that,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  the  Juliets  are  copies  of  that  picture."  Mr. 
Barnes  was  getting  excited,  for  if  these  buttons  were  por- 
traits, and  the  one  in  his  pocket  was  that  of  the  woman 
whose  likeness  stood  on  the  easel,  it  was  very  evident  that 
they  were  connected.  Mr.  Mitchel  eyed  him  keenly. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  disturbed.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  disturbed." 

"You  are,  and  it  is  the  sight  of  those  buttons  which  has 
caused  it.  Now  tell  me  your  reason  for  coming  here  this 
morning." 


$t  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

Mr.  Barnes  thought  the  time  had  come  to  strike  a 
deciding  blow. 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  first  answer  one  question,  and  think 
well  before  you  reply.  How  many  buttons  were  made  for 
this  set  ?  " 

"  Seven,"  answered  Mr.  Mitchel,  so  promptly  that  Mr. 
Barnes  could  only  repeat,  amazed  : 

"  Seven  ?     But  you  said  six  only  a  moment  ago  ! " 

"  I  know  what  I  said.  I  never  forget  any  statement 
that  I  make,  and  all  my  statements  are  accurate.  I  said 
that  six  is  the  entire  set.  Now  you  ask  me  what  was 
the  original  number,  and  I  reply  seven.  Is  that  clear  ?  " 

"  Then  the  other  button  has  beeK  lost  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.    I  know  where  it  is." 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  by  saying  that  the  set  now  is 
only  six  ?  " 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Barnes,  if  I  decline  to  answer  that 
question.  I  have  replied  now  to  several  since  I  asked  you 
why  you  came  here  this  morning." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  detective,  playing  his  trump 
card,  as  he  thought.  "  I  have  been  examining  the  place 
where  your  crime  was  committed,  and  I  have  found  that 
seventh  button  ! "  If  Mr.  Barnes  expected  Mr.  Mitchel 
to  recoil  with  fear,  or  tremble,  or  do  anything  that  an 
ordinary  criminal  does  when  brought  face  to  face  with 
evidence  of  his  guilt,  he  must  have  been  disappointed. 
But  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  by  this  time  so  skillful  a  man 
as  Mr.  Barnes  did  not  expect  so  consummate  an  actor  as 
Mr.  Mitchel  to  betray  feeling.  He  did  show  some  inter- 


DIAMOND  CUT  DIAMOND).  53 

est,  however,  for  he  arose  from  his  chair  and,  walking  up 

to  Mr.  Barnes,  he  asked  simply  : 

"  Have  you  it  with  you  ?    May  I  see  it  ?  " 
Mr.  Barnes  hesitated  a  moment,  wondering  if  he  risked 
losing  the  button  by  handing  it  to  him.      He  decided  to 
give  it  to  him,  and  did  so. 

Mr.  Mitchel  looked  at  it  closely,  as  though  an  expert,  and 
after  several  moments  of  silence,  he  tossed  it  carelessly 
into  the  air,  catching  it  as  it  came  down,  and  then  said  : 
"  This  would  make  a  pretty  situation  in  a  play,  Mr. 
Barnes.  Follow  me.  Detective  discovers  crime,  and 
finds  curious  button.  Goes  straight  to  criminal,  and 
boldly  tells  him  of  the  fact.  Criminal  admits  that  he  has 
but  six  buttons  out  of  seven,  and  asks  to  see  the  button 
found.  Detective  foolishly  hands  it  to  him.  Then 
criminal  smiles  blandly,  and  says  :  '  Mr.  Detective,  now  I 
have  seven  buttons,  and  my  set  is  complete  again.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? '  " 

"  And  the  detective  would  reply,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  fall- 
ing into  the  humor  of  the  situation  :  '  Mr.  Criminal,  I  will 
just  take  that  back  by  force.'  " 

"  Exactly.  You  catch  the  spirit  of  the  stage  picture. 
Then,  fight  between  two  men,  applause  from  the  gallery, 
and  victory  for  either  party,  as  the  author  has  decided. 
That  is  the  way  it  would  be  done  in  a  play.  But  in  real 
life  it  is  different.  I  simply  hand  you  back  your  button, 
thus,"  handing  button  to  Mr.  Barnes,  and  bowing  politely, 
and  then  remarked :  "  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  welcome  to 
that.  It  is  not  a  part  of  my  set ! " 


54  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

"  Not  a  part  of  your  set  ? "  echoed  the  detective,  dumb- 
founded. 

"  Not  a  part  of  my  set.  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you, 
but  so  it  is.  I  will  even  explain,  for  I  sympathize  with 
you.  I  told  you  the  set  was  originally  seven.  So  it 
was,  but  the  seventh  button  has  the  head  of  Shakespeare 
on  it.  All  seven  were  given  to  me  by  my  friend,  but  as  I 
could  wear  but  six,  I  returned  to  her  this  odd  Shake- 
speare button,  which  I  had  made  into  a  breast-pin,  and 
kept  the  others,  thus  reducing  the  set  of  buttons  to  six. 
The  seventh  is  no  longer  a  button,  you  see." 

"  But  how  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  this  button 
which  I  have  is  plainly  a  portrait  of  your  friend,  and  a 
counterpart  to  those  on  your  vest  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Barnes,  I  don't  account  for  it.  I  don't 
have  to,  you  know.  That  sort  of  thing  is  your  business." 

"  What  if  I  should  decide  to  arrest  you  at  once,  and 
ask  a  jury  to  determine  whether  your  original  set  included 
this  button  or  not  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  inconvenient  to  me,  of  course.  But 
it  is  one  of  those  things  that  we  risk  every  day.  I  mean 
arrest  by  some  blundering  detective.  Pardon  me,  do  not 
get  angry  again  ;  I  do  not  allude  to  yourself.  I  am  quite 
sure  that  you  are  too  shrewd  to  arrest  me.'* 

"  And  why  so  pray  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  surely  not  going  to  run  away  in  the 
first  place,  and  secondly  you  would  gain  nothing,  since  it 
WMild  be  so  easy  for  me  to  prove  all  that  I  have  told  you. 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND.  $5 

and  in  your  mind  you  are  saying  to  yourself  that  I  have 
not  lied  to  you.  Really  I  have  not." 

"  I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  say  to  you,  Mr.  Mit- 
chel,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  rising.  "  Will  you  show  me  that 
seventh  button,  or  breast-pin  ?  " 

"  That  is  asking  a  great  deal,  but  I  will  grant  your  re- 
quest upon  one  condition.  Think  well  before  you  make 
the  bargain.  When  I  made  that  wager  I  did  not  calcu- 
late the  possibility  of  entangling  in  my  scandal  the  name 
of  the  woman  whom  I  love  dearest  on  earth.  That  is  the 
portrait  of  the  woman  who  will  soon  become  my  wife.  As 
I  have  said,  she  has  the  other  button  and  wears  it  con- 
stantly. You  will  gain  nothing  by  seeing  it,  for  it  will 
simply  corroborate  my  word,  which  I  think  you  believe 
now.  I  will  take  you  to  her  and  she  will  tell  you  of  these 
buttons,  if  you  promise  me  never  to  annoy  her  in  any  way 
in  connection  with  this  affair." 

"  I  will  give  you  that  promise  cheerfully.  I  have  no 
wish  to  annoy  a  lady." 

"  That  is  for  you  to  decide.  Meet  me  in  the  lobby  at 
noon  precisely,  and  I  will  take  you  to  her  house.  And 
How  will  you  excuse  me  whilst  I  complete  my  toilet  ?  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SEVENTH  BUTTON. 

ON  the  second  floor  of  the  apartment-house  in  East 
Thirtieth  Street  lived  Mrs.  Mortimer  Remsen,  and  her 
two  daughters,  Emily  and  Dora. 

Mrs.  Remsen's  husband  had  been  dead  more  than  ten 
years,  but  he  had  amassed  a  handsome  fortune,  which 
left  his  family  able  to  maintain  the  position  in  New  York 
society  to  which  they  were  heirs  by  birth  and  breeding. 
They  lived  in  the  most  commodious  apartment  in  the 
magnificent  building  in  Thirtieth  Street,  and  were  sur- 
rounded by  an  elegant  luxury  which  results  from  a  com- 
bination of  wealth  and  refined  taste.  They  entertained 
frequently,  and  Mrs.  Remsen,  still  a  handsome  woman, 
was  always  a  conspicuous  figure  at  the  most  notable  social 
and  charitable  events  of  the  season. 

Emily,  the  eldest  daughter,  was  a  woman  of  twimty-six, 
who  commanded,  rather  than  attracted,  admiration.  She 
was  of  admirable  proportions,  easy  and  regal  carriage, 
with  a  fine  head  well  poised  on  magnificent  shoulders. 
As  to  her  face — well,  I  cannot  describe  it  better  than  did 
the  eminent  artist  Gaston  de  Castilla,  who  was  requested 
to  paint  her  portrait.  "  Madam,"  said  he,  to  her  mother, 
"  I  do  not  like  to  undertake  your  commission.  Your 

56 


THE  SEVENTH   BUTTOW.  5| 

daughter  has  one  of  those  marvellous  faces  which  defies 
art.  Every  feature  is  a  departure  from  recognized  stand- 
ards, and  yet  the  result  is  nobility  and  beauty  of  the 
highest  type.  Only  Nature  herself  can  produce  such 
effects.  Through  an  imperfect  countenance  she  sheds 
the  rays  of  an  illumined  soul,  till  all  faults  are  obliterated, 
forgotten.  We  poor  artists  cannot  hope  to  supply  on  our 
cold  canvas  what  so  singular  a  face  must  have,  to  make  it 
beautiful."  Nevertheless,  he  did  paint  the  portrait,  the 
one  which  the  detective  had  seen  in  Mr.  Mitchel's  room, 
and  he  had  succeeded  at  least  in  suggesting  the  marvellous 
effects  of  character,  revealing  itself  through  the  features. 
Other  painters  had  failed,  perhaps  because  they  appreci- 
ated less  than  he  what  they  attempted. 

This  description  also  gives  a  hint  of  the  woman  herself. 
A  combination  of  all  the  softer  emotional  elements,  she 
dominated  self  and  others  by  a  supreme  will.  She  was 
rarely  disobeyed  by  suitor  or  by  servant.  That  she  had 
engaged  herself  to  marry  Mr.  Mitchel  had  surprised  the 
entire  circle  within  which  she  moved,  and  yet  'perhaps 
the  secret  of  his  success  lay  in  the  simple  fact  that  he 
had  had  the  courage  to  ask  for  her,  and  to  do  so  in  a 
loving  but  masterful  way  which  plainly  showed  that  he 
anticipated  no  refusal  or  coy  hesitancy.  His  wooing  had 
been  of  an  impetuous  whirlwind  kind,  and  he  was 
affianced  to  her  within  a  month  of  their  -acquaint- 
ance. 

It  was  this  fact  which  had  caused  the  most  comment 
Mr.  Mitchel  moved  in  good  society,  but  he  was  a  new- 


58  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

comer,  and  now  that  he  had  captured  the  piize  of  the 
matrimonial  market,  all  where  asking  "  Who  is  he  ? "  a 
question  which  none  seemed  able  to  answer.  He  was  a 
Southerner  and  that  single  fact  had  shed  about  him  a  halo 
of  attractive  light  which  had  blinded  the  eyes  of  those 
who  feebly  attempted  to  look  deeper. 

Mrs.  Remsen  had  protested  when  Emily  announced 
her  engagement,  but  Emily  had  replied,  "  Mother,  I  have 
given  my  word,"  and  the  discussion  was  ended.  A  few 
moments  later  she  had  affectionately  seated  herself  at  her 
mother's  feet,  and  after  tenderly  kissing  her,  whispered 
"I  love  him.  He  is  my  king,"  and  then  buried  her  head 
in  her  parent's  lap.  Few  women  argue  against  an  appeal 
of  that  nature.  Thus  Emily  and  Mr.  Mitchel  became 
engaged,  after  which  he  came  and  went  much  as  though 
he  were  the  master  of  the  house.  Why  not,  since  he  had 
become  the  master  of  its  mistress  ? 

Dora  was  her  sister's  antithesis,  save  that  both  were 
brunettes.  She  was  simply  a  lovable,  docile,  impression- 
able,  pretty  girl.  She  adored  her  mother,  and  worshipped 
her  sister  whom  she  called  "  The  Queen."  Dora  was 
only  seventeen.  There  had  been  three  boys  born  between 
the  sisters,,  but  they  had  died  in  infancy. 

The  two  girls  were  in  the  sumptuous  parlor  of  their 
apartment,  Emily  lying  on  the  soft  lounge,  whilst  Dora 
sat  near  her  in  a  cosy  armchair  which  made  her  look 
almost  a  little  girl. 

"  Queen,  did  you  enjoy  the  opera  last  night  ?  "  asked 
Dora, 


THE   SEVENTH    BUTTON.  59 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  replied  Emily,  "  But  you  know,  my  dear, 
comic  opera — is  comic  opera,  and  all  is  said." 

"  It  's  all  very  fine  for  you  to  talk  in  that  patronizing 
way,  Queen,  about  amusement,  but  it  is  different  with  me. 
I  have  not  outgrown  the  theatre  yet.  I  '11  tell  you  what 
I  have  been  thinking  of  seriously — " 

"  Seriously,"  laughed  Emily,  pinching  her  pretty 
sister's  cheek.  "  Why  you  sly  little  rogue,  you  could  n't 
be  serious  if  you  tried." 

"  Oh !  could  n't  I !  But  listen.  I  am  going  to  ask 
Bob " 

"  Bob  ? " 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  you  know.  I  told  him  last  night  that  I 
mean  to  call  him  Bob  after  this,  and  he  kissed  me  and 
said  it  was  a  bargain." 

"  Kissed  you,  did  he  ?  Well  Miss  Impudence,  I  like 
that." 

"  So  did  I.  But  you  need  not  scold,  because  you 
know  what  Bob  says  is  law.  You  are  as  much  afraid  of 
him  as — well  as  all  the  rest  of  the  men  are  of  you.  But 
I  have  n't  told  you  what  I  am  going  to  do.  I  want  Bob 
to  take  me  with  you  both,  whenever  you  go  to  the 
theatre." 

"  Oho  !     So  that  is  your  little  plot,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  !     What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  think  of  it  ?  Now  I  shall  surprise  you. 
I  think  it  is  an  excellent  idea.  I  love  you  very  much, 
my  little  sweetheart  sister,  and  shall  be  only  too  glad  to 
see  you  have  as  much  pleasure  as  your  heart  longs  for;" 


60  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  You  darling  Queen  !  "  and  with  an  impetuous  bound 
the  younger  girl  was  on  her  knees  with  her  arms  around 
Emily,  raining  kisses  upon  her  lips.  This  effusive  show 
of  affection,  Emily  received  with  evident  pleasure,  for, 
however  dignified  she  could  be  in  her  bearing,  leaving 
the  impression  that  she  was  cold,  in  reality  she  was  warm- 
hearted to  a  degree  which  would  have  surprised  the 
gossips. 

Nestling  her  head  in  the  folds  of  her  sister's  soft  silk 
gown,  thus  hiding  her  face,  Dora  said  timidly  : 

"  May  I  tell  you  something  Queen  ?" 

"  Ha  !  You  mischief,  what  have  you  to  confess  now  ?  " 

"  I  have  invited  a  man  to  call  here,"  replied  Dora 
•wddenly  raising  her  head,  and  speaking  with  a  different 
touch  in  her  tones. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  laughed  Emily,  "  Who  is  the  monster? 
Where  did  you  meet  him  ?" 

"I  have  met  him  several  times,  at  afternoon  teas. 
The  last  time  he  asked  me  if  he  might  call — and  I  told 
him  he  could  do  so  this  afternoon,  when  I  thought  you 
would  be  at  home.  Was  it  very  wrong  ?  " 

"  Well,  Dora,  I  don't  think  it  was  exactly  proper,  but 
perhaps  it  may  be  all  right,  since  you  have  met  him  at 
several  of  our  friends'  houses.  But  what  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  Alphonse  Thauret." 

"A  Frenchman?" 

"  Yes,  though  he  speaks  English  with  only  a  very 
slight  accent." 

"  I  don't  like  Frenchmen.    I  know  it  is  preposterous 


THE  SEVENTH  BUTTON.  6l 

prejudice  but  I  never  meet  one  without  thinking  him  a 
possible  adventurer.  With  their  soft  sycophantic  ways, 
they  remind  me  of  cats,  and  I  expect  them  to  show  their 
claws  at  any  moment.  However,  pet,  perhaps  your 
Frenchman  will  not  call,  and  then " 

"  Oh  !  but  he  will.  He  said  he  would  come  this  after- 
noon. That  is  why  I  have  been  so  nervous.  I  was 
afraid  you  might  be  going  out,  and " 

"  No,  I  will  be  here  to  protect  you.  Besides  I  expect 
Bob  at  any  moment.  He  said  he  would  come  about 
noon,  and  it  is  after  that  already.  Perhaps  that  is  he 
now  ;  yes,  three  rings. 

"  Oh,  so  Romeo  and  Juliet  have  signals  !  But  jump 
up,  Queen,  he  must  not  catch  us  lying  down,  and 
1  spooning.'  ' 

A  moment  later  Mr.  Mitchel  entered  to  find  both  girls 
seated  in  the  most  dignified  manner,  reading  novels. 
Walking  over  to  Emily  he  stooped,  and  kissed  her  lightly 
on  the  forehead,  whispering  "  My  Queen."  Next  he 
patted  Dora  on  the  head,  as  one  would  pat  a  child. 

"Emily  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  telling  a  friend  of 
mine  that  he  might  call  here.  You  do  not  mind  ?" 

"Why,  of  course  not,  Roy."  She  had  made  this  name 
for  him  by  eliminating  the  first  syllable  of  his  second 
name,  Leroy.  She  told  him,  that  thus  she  could  call  him 
King,  without  heralding  it  to  the  world.  Almost  imme- 
diately the  bell  sounded  again,  and  Mr.  Barnes  was  in- 
troduced. Mr.  Mitchel  presented  him  to  the  two  ladies, 
and  then  devoted  himself  to  Dora,  thus  leaving  the 


62  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

detective  perfectly  free  to  converse  with  Emily.  Being 
well  educated,  and  having  travelled  through  England 
early  in  life,  Mr.  Barnes  soon  made  himself  at  ease,  and 
talked  like  any  society  man.  Presently  Mr.  Mitchel 
took  Dora  to  the  window  and  stood  there  looking  out 
and  chatting,  apparently  absorbed  and  unobservant  of  the 
others.  Mr.  Barnes  decided  that  this  was  his  opportunity. 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Remsen,  and  let  the  interest  of  a 
collector  excuse  the  impertinence  of  my  noticing  that 
beautiful  pin  which  you  wear.  Cameos  I  think  are  too 
little  appreciated  nowadays.  They  are  passed  by,  whilst 
statuettes  bring  fancy  prices.  Yet  does  it  not  require 
exquisite  skill  to  carve  so  small  an  object  ? " 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Barnes,  and  am  not  at  all  angry 
with  you  for  admiring  my  pin.  You  may  look  at  it  if 
you  wish."  Saying  which  she  took  it  off  and  handed  it 
to  him.  It  was  the  fac-simile  of  those  which  Mr. 
Mitchel  wore  as  buttons,  save  that  it  bore  the  image  of 
Shakespeare.  The  cameo  was  mounted  in  a  gold  frame, 
and,  surrounded  by  diamonds,  made  a  beautiful  orna- 
ment. "You  would  never  guess,  Mr.  Barnes  that  that 
was  once  an  ordinary  button  ?  " 

Mr.  Barnes  assumed  an  expression  of  surprise  as 
though  the  idea  was  entirely  new  to  him.  All  he  said 
was  : 

"  It  may  have  been  a  button,  but  surely  never  an 
ordinary  one." 

"  Well  no,  not  an  ordinary  one  of  course.  I  suppose 
you  know  that  I  am  engaged  to  your  friend  ?  " 


THE  SEVENTH   BUTTON.  63 

Mr.  Barnes  assented  with  a  bow,  and  Emily  continued  : 

"  Shortly  after  we  became  engaged,  I  went  to  Europe, 
and  whilst  there  I  came  across  a  jeweller  who  produced 
the  most  beautiful  carvings  in  cameo  and  intaglio.  I 
ordered  a  set  made  to  be  used  for  buttons." 

"  All  similar  to  this  ?  " 

"Similar  but  not  identical.  This  one  has  Shake- 
speare's head.  The  others  represent  Romeo  and  Juliet." 

Mr.  Barnes  determined  upon  a  bold  stroke.  Taking  the 
button  from  his  pocket,  and  handing  it  to  Emily,  he  said 
quietly : 

"  Here  is  a  cameo  of  Juliet.  Perhaps  it  may  interest 
you?" 

"  Why  this  is  extraordinary  !     It  is  one  of  my  set !  " 

"  One  of  yours,  why  have  you  lost  one  ?  How  many 
did  you  have  ?  " 

"  There  were  seven  including  this  one  of  Shakespeare. 

The  other  six "  Here  she  stopped  and  colored 

deeply. 

"  Miss  Remsen,  you  think  that  is  one  of  the  original 
set.  If  so  of  course  it  is  yours,  and  I  should  be  too  glad 
to  restore  it  to  you.  But  have  you  lost  one  ?  " 

"Lost  one?  No that  is,  I  don't  know."  She 

seemed  much  confused,  and  looked  intently  at  the  button. 
Suddenly  her  whole  expression  changed,  and  with  her 
self  possession  fully  restored  she  startled  Mr.  Barnes  by 
saying,  "  I  am  mistaken.  This  is  not  one  of  the  original 
set.  Yet  it  is  very  similar." 

Mr.  Barnes  did  not  know  what  to  think.     Did  she 


64  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

divine  that  there  might  be  some  danger  in  admitting  thai 
there  was  a  seventh  button  still  ?  Had  that  matchless 
schemer  Mitchel  sent  her  a  note  warning  her  to  say  that 
there  were  but  seven  in  the  original  set  ?  He  could  not 
decide  at  once,  but  hazarded  one  more  stroke. 

"  Miss  Remsen,  I  have  seen  your  portrait,  and  it  struck 
me  that  that  button  is  a  copy  of  it.  What  do  you 
think  ? " 

The  girl  once  more  became  confused  and  stammered. 

"  I  don't  know,"  then  suddenly,  and  with  complete 
composure  again,  "  Yes,  I  think  you  are  right.  This  is  a 
copy  from  my  picture.  The  portrait  was  made  last 
summer,  and  afterwards  I  allowed  the  artist  to  exhibit  it. 
I  think  photographs  were  made  from  it,  and  possibly 
some  cameo  cutter  has  used  it  for  his  work." 

This  was  ingenious,  but  not  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Barnes, 
for  he  knew  that  it  was  far  from  probable  that  another 
gem-cutter  should  have  used  the  picture,  and  then  have 
called  it  Juliet.  Beside  it  would  have  been  too  great  a 
coincidence  to  make  a  button  of  it.  He  decided  therefore 
that  the  girl  was  doing  the  best  she  could  to  invent  a 
plausible  explanation  to  a  question,  which  Mr.  Mitchel 
himself  had  simply  refused  to  answer.  Not  wishing  to 
arouse  any  suspicion  in  her  mind  that  he  doubted  her 
word,  he  replied  quickly  : 

"  That  is  very  likely,  and  surely  he  could  not  have 
chosen  a  better  face  for  his  subject." 

"  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Emily,  "  you  offered  just  now  to 
give  me  this,  thinking  that  I  had  lost  it.  Of  course  1 


THE  SEVENTH   BUTTON.  65 

should  not  accept  a  present  from  one  whom  I  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  knowing  for  so  short  a  time,  but  you  are 
Mr.  Mitchel's  friend,  and  as  I  would  really  prefer  not  to 
have  my  portrait  in  the  hands  of  strangers,  I  accept  your 
gift  with  thanks." 

This  was  entirely  unexpected.  When  Mr.  Barnes  had 
made  the  remark  that  he  would  be  glad  to  restore  her 
her  own,  he  had  done  so  feeling  safe,  because  to  obtain 
it  she  would  need  to  admit  that  she  had  lost  it.  Now  it 
seemed  that  she  had  deprived  him  of  his  piece  of  evidence. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  say,  when  Mr  Mitchel  walked 
across  to  them  and  remarked  pleasantly  : 

"Well,  Emily,  do  you  find  my  friend  Mr.  Barnes 
entertaining  ? " 

"  Mr.  Barnes  has  been  most  agreeable,  Roy,  and  see, 
he  has  actually  given  me  a  present,"  saying  which  she 
handed  the  button  to  Mr.  Mitchel  across  whose  counte- 
nance Mr.  Barnes  thought  he  saw  a  fleeting  smile  of 
triumph  pass. 

"  I  am  proud  of  you,  Emily.  You  command  homage 
wherever  you  extend  your  influence.  Do  you  know,  Mr. 
Barnes  refused  to  give  this  cameo  to  me,  only  this 
morning.  You  can  guess  why  I  wanted  it." 

"  Because  it  has  my  picture  copied  on  it  ?  " 

"  Exactly.  Mr.  Barnes,  allow  me  to  add  my  thanks  to 
those  of  Miss  Remsen.  You  can  readily  appreciate  why 
we  prefer  to  have  this  bauble  in  our  own  possession  ?  " 

Mr.  Barnes  thought  that  he  could.  He  saw  that  he 
was  fairly  caught  and  that  he  could  do  nothing  without 

4 


66  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

making  a  scene.  He  met  a  glance  from  Mr.  Mitchel 
which  he  knew  was  meant  to  remind  him  of  his  promise 
not  to  annoy  Miss  Remsen.  He  had  about  decided  that 
he  had  been  a  fool  to  make  such  a  promise  and  to  have 
visited  the  place  at  all,  when  he  suddenly  changed  his 
mind,  as  a  servant  announced  : 

"  Mr.  Alphonse  Thauret." 

Immediately  the  detective  remembered  the  name.  It 
was  upon  the  card  given  to  him  by  the  Frenchman  who 
had  left  the  train  at  Stamford.  He  was  watching  Mr. 
Mitchel  when  the  new-comer  was  thus  unexpectedly 
announced,  and  he  thought  he  detected  a  glance  of  dis- 
pleasure. Were  these  two  men  acquainted,  accomplices 
perhaps  ? 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  let  me  present  Mr.  Thauret,"  said 
Dora. 

"  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  the  gentleman 
before,"  replied  Mr.  Mitchel,  and  with  a  stiff  bow  he 
crossed  to  the  side  of  Emily  as  though  to  prevent  an 
introduction  to  her.  This,  of  course,  was  impossible, 
and  Mr.  Mitchel  was  plainly  annoyed.  Emily  stepped 
forward,  extended  her  hand  to  Mr.  Thauret,  and  then 
turning,  presented  him  to  Mr.  Barnes,  who  had  arisen, 
and  who  simply  bowed. 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  the  Frenchman,  "  I  am 
delighted  to  meet  you  again." 

"  Why,  do  you  know  Mr.  Barnes  also  ? "  cried  Dora 
greatly  surprised. 

"  Who  does  not  know  Mr.  Barnes,  the  celebrated  detec. 


THE   SEVENTH    BUTTON.  67 

tive."  He  said  this  in  that  extremely  polite  tone  so 
much  assumed  by  his  race,  when  inclined  to  be  most  com- 
plimentary. Yet  Mr.  Barnes  thought  that  he  had  some 
sinister  motive  in  thus  proclaiming  his  connection  with 
the  police.  Was  it  to  prevent  him  from  calling  upon 
these  women  again  ?  If  so  he  failed  to  make  the  desired 
impression  upon  Dora,  for  that  young  woman  seemed 
fairly  enraptured. 

"  A  detective  ? "  said  she.  "  Are  you  really  the  great 
Mr.  Barnes  ? " 

"  I  am  a  detective,  but  scarcely  a  great  one." 

"  Oh  !  but  you  are,  you  are !  I  read  all  about  the 
wonderful  way  in  which  you  caught  that  man  Pettingill. 
And  now  tell  me,  are  you  going  to  catch  the  man  who 
robbed  the  woman  on  the  Boston  train  yesterday  ? " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  it  is  a  man  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Barnes  amused  at  her  impetuosity,  and  pleased  at  the 
turn  taken  by  the  conversation. 

"  Oh  !  it  is  not  a  woman.  I  am  sure  of  that.  I  read 
about  it  in  the  papers  this  morning.  I  bought  three  so 
as  not  to  miss  anything.  No  woman  would  have  been 
clever  enough  to  plan  it  all,  and  then  carry  it  out  so 
thoroughly." 

"  This  is  very  interesting,"  said  Mr.  Thauret.  "  Of 
course  I  too  have  read  the  papers,  but  besides  that,  as 
you  know,  Mr.  Barnes,  I  was  on  the  train  myself,  and  the 
first  to  be  searched.  I  have  thought  of  the  case  ever 
since.  In  my  own  country  we  claim  that  our  detectives 
can  unravel  any  mystery,  and  I  am  curious  to  know  how 


68  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

you  will  manage  in  an  affair  of  this  kind.  The  thief 
evidently  is  clever,  do  you  not  think  so  ?  " 

Mr.  Mitchel  had  drawn  apart  and  apparently  was 
absorbed  in  a  conversation  with  Emily  ;  nevertheless  Mr. 
Barnes  was  confident  that  he  missed  little  of  what  was 
being  said  by  the  group  of  which  he  himself  was  one. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances  he  would  not  for  a  mo- 
ment have  thought  of  speaking  of  so  important  a  case 
before  one  who  at  least  might  be  suspected  of  complicity. 
But  these  were  not  ordinary  circumstances.  Here  were 
two  men,  about  both  of  whom  there  was  a  mysterious 
connection  with  the  crime,  or  crimes,  which  he  was  investi- 
gating. If  either,  or  both,  were  guilty,  it  was  evident 
from  their  courage  in  visiting  unconcernedly  at  the  very 
building  in  which  the  murder  had  been  committed,  that 
extreme  skill  would  be  required  to  obtain  a  conviction. 
The  detective  therefore  considered  that  these  men  must 
be  met  with  methods  as  bold  as  their  own.  Speaking  in 
a  tone  loud  enough  to  reach  Mr.  Mitchel's  ears  he  said  : 

"  I  think  that  the  thief  is  clever,  but  that  he  is  not  so 
clever  as  he  considers  himself." 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  He  believed — I  say  he,  because  like  Miss  Remsen,  I 
think  it  is  a  man — " 

ft  How  delightful  of  you  to  agree  with  me,"  said 
Dora. 

"  This  man  then,"  continued  Mr.  Barney  "  considers 
that  he  has  misled  me.  He  thinks  that  when  I  directed 
that  all  the  passengers  should  be  searched,  I  did  so 


THE   SEVENTH    BUTTON.  69 

hoping  to  find  the  lost  jewels,  whereas  I  was  not  looking 
for  the  jewels,  but  for  the  thief." 

"  How  could  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  You  may  think  me  egotistic,  but  I  hoped  to  detect 
him  by  his  conduct.  I  was  entirely  successful.  I  know 
who  stole  the  jewels."  This  was  a  bold  assertion,  especi- 
ally as  Mr.  Barnes  had  not  decided  the  matter  in  his  own 
mind.  He  wished  to  note  the  faces  of  these  men,  when 
he  made  the  statement.  He  gained  nothing  by  the 
manoeuvre,  for  Mr.  Mitchel  seemed  not  to  have  heard, 
whilst  the  Frenchman  quickly  said  : 

"  Bravo  !  Bravo  !  You  are  better  than  Lecocq.  It  is 
like  a  wizard's  trick.  You  pass  the  suspects  before  you 
in  review,  and  then,  presto !  you  pick  out  the  criminal 
with  your  eye.  That  is  a  charming  method,  and  so 
simple ! " 

"  Mr.  Thauret,"  said  Dora,  "  you  are  laughing  at  Mr. 
Barnes,  and  that  is  not  good-natured.  Mr.  Barnes  says 
he  knows  the  thief.  I  believe  him." 

"  Pardon  !  I  believe  him  also.  I  did  not  mean  to 
laugh.  But  tell  me,  Mr.  Barnes,  how  did  the  man  secrete 
the  diamonds,  I  suppose  they  were  diamonds,  were  they 
not  ?  " 

"  Diamonds  and  other  jewels.  But  let  me  ask  you 

how  would  you  have  hidden  them,  had  you  been  in  his 
place  ? "  This  time  the  shot  went  home.  Plainly  the 
Frenchman  did  not  like  the  suggestion  of  being  himself 
the  criminal.  He  quickly  recovered  his  equanimity,  how- 
ever, and  answered : 


fO  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  have  thought  of  that  very  thing.  Of 
course  I  would  probably  make  a  bungle  of  it.  Still  I 
have  thought  of  a  way." 

"  A  way  by  which  he  could  have  hidden  the  jewels  so 
that  a  search  could  not  have  found  them,  and  yet  in  a 
place  accessible  to  himself  afterwards  ?  " 

"  I  think  so !  Perhaps  I  am  wrong,  but  I  think  my 
little  plan  would  do  that  much.  The  newspaper  says  the 
jewels  were  unset  stones.  I  should  have  pushed  them 
into  the  cake  of  soap  in  the  wash-room.  No  one  would 
think  to  look  for  them  there,  and  even  if  so,  there  would  be 
nothing  against  me.  Afterwards,  I  should  have  gone  back, 
taken  the  soap,  and  the  jewels  would  have  been  mine.** 

"You  are  mistaken." 

"How  so?" 

**  You  were  the  first  person  searched,  and  I  watched 
you  till  you  left  the  train.  It  would  have  been  difficult 
for  you  to  come  to  New  York  from  Stamford  on  another 
train,  and  then  gain  access  to  the  coaches  on  a  side  track 
and  in  the  hands  of  the  scrub-women.  Even  then  you 
would  have  failed,  for  I  took  all  the  soap  away,  and  sub- 
stituted new  cakes  before  the  second  man  was  searched." 

A  smile  on  Mr.  Mitchel's  face  proved  that  he  was  lis- 
tening, and  that  he  was  pleased  at  the  detective's  clever- 
ness. The  Frenchman  shugged  his  shoulders,  and  said, 
laughing ; 

"There,  you  see,  I  should  never  make  a  thief.  Be- 
sides there  was  the  satchel.  I  had  forgotten  about  that 
One  could  not  hide  a  satchel  in  a  cake  of  soap." 


THE   SEVENTH    BUTTON.  71 

"But  he  could  throw  it  out  of  a  window,  to  mislead 
the  man  who  picked  it  up,"  replied  the  detective. 

"You  are  shrewd,  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Mr.  Thauret,  after 
a  keen  scrutiny,  which  Mr.  Barnes  thought  betokened 
uneasiness.  "  But,"  he  continued,  "will  you  tell  me  how 
you  think  the  thief  hid  the  treasure  on  the  train  ?  " 

"  He  hid  it  off  the  train,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  quickly, 
and  to  his  satisfaction  both  his  men  started  slightly. 
Evidently  Mr.  Mitchel  decided  that  it  was  time  for  him 
to  enter  the  game,  for  he  crossed  and  joined  the  group, 
saying  as  he  did  so  : 

"  Are  you  all  discussing  the  train  robbery  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes!  "  said  Dora.  "And  it  is  just  lovely,  the 
way  Mr.  Barnes  has  found  out  all  about  it !  " 

"  Found  out  all  about  it  ?     Has  he,  indeed  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  He  knows  who  the  thief  is,  and  that  he  hid 
the  jewels  off  the  train." 

"  How  very  clever  of  you,  Mr.  Barnes,  to  discover 
that.  Where  else  could  he  have  hidden  them,  since  the 
train  itself  and  everybody  on  it  was  searched  ?  " 

It  irritated  Mr.  Barnes,  the  way  in  which  Mr.  Mitchel 
always  seemed  to  belittle  his  skill.  He  was  a  trifle  angry, 
therefore,  as  he  made  his  next  bold  stroke. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  where  the  thief 
might  have  hidden  the  jewels,  on  the  train — a  place 
which  no  one  thought  of  searching,  not  even  myself." 

"  Oh !  tell  us  ! "  exclaimed  Dora.  The  two  men 
looked  interested,  nothing  more.  Emily  had  come  be- 
hind Mr.  Mitchel,  and  slyly  slipped  her  hand  within  his. 


72  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  The  woman  carried  the  jewels  in  a  satchel.  Suppose 
the  thief  had  stolen  the  satchel  and  thrown  it  from  the 
window.  Missing  that,  the  woman  would  have  naturally 
concluded  that  the  jewels  were  gone,  would  she  not  ? 
Very  well.  The  thief  might  have  hidden  the  jewels  in 
her  own  pocket  whilst  she  slept."  Mr.  Barnes  had  hoped 
much  from  this  proposition,  but  it  was  a  distinct  fail- 
ure. Either  that  was  not  the  thief's  method,  or  else 
Mr.  Mitchel  and  Mr.  Thauret  were  both  innocent.  Both 
smiled  incredulously.  The  former  spoke  : 

"  That  is  too  far-fetched,  Mr.  Barnes.  How  do  you 
suppose  that  he  would  regain  possession  of  the  gems  ?  " 

"  By  murdering  the  woman,"  answered  the  detective. 
Again  he  failed,  for  neither  of  the  men  winced.  Mr. 
Barnes  was  foiled  for  the  moment,  but  not  entirely  dis- 
couraged. The  start  which  both  men  had  made,  when  he 
suggested  that  the  stolen  property  had  been  hidden  off  the 
train,  still  remained  to  be  explained. 

"Come!  Come!  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel  pat- 
ting his  shoulder  familiarly,  "don't  let  this  case  upset 
you  so.  When  you  go  so  far  for  a  theory,  you  do  not 
show  the  skill  which  you  displayed  in  tracking  Pettingill. 
Why  even  I  can  get  you  a  better  one  than  that." 

"  You  must  not  think  me  quite  a  fool,  Mr.  Mitchel. 
If  my  theory  seems  preposterous,  it  does  not  follow  that 
it  is  the  only  one  at  my  command.  We  detectives  must 
look  at  these  cases  from  all  lights.  I  will  wager  that  I 
can  tell  you  what  your  theory  is  ?  " 

"  Good  !  I  am  glad  New  York  has  such  a  clever  man 


THE   SEVENTH   BUTTON.  73 

to  defend  her.  I  accept  your  wager.  Here,  I  will  write 
my  idea  on  a  bit  of  paper.  If  you  guess  it  I  owe  you  an 
invitation  to  a  good  dinner."  Mr.  Mitchel  wrote  a  few 
lines  on  the  back  of  an  envelope  and  handed  it  to  Dora. 

"You  think,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "that  the  thief  might 
have  simply  handed  the  satchel  and  jewelry  to  a  con- 
federate at  a  station  decided  upon  in  advance." 

"  Bravo  !  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Dora,  "  You  are  a  great 
detective.  You  have  won  your  wager.  That  is  what  is 
written  here," 

"  I  owe  you  a  dinner  Mr.  Barnes,  and  it  shall  be 
a  good  one,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel. 

"  Would  Mr.  Barnes  like  to  win  another  ?  "  asked  the 
Frenchman  with  slow  distinctness. 

"  I  would,"  said  the  detective  sharply. 

"  Then  I  will  wager  with  you,  that  if  you  ever  clear  up 
the  mystery,  you  will  be  obliged  to  admit  that  none  of 
the  theories  advanced  is  the  correct  one." 

"  I  cannot  accept  that  bet,"  said  Mr.  Barnes  slowly, 
"  because  I  am  sure  that  we  have  not  mentioned  the 
true  method  adopted." 

"Ah  !  You  have  another  theory,"  Mr.  Thauret  almost 
sneered. 

"  I  have  and  it  is  the  correct  one,"  retorted  Mr. 
Barnes,  "  but  I  prefer  not  to  disclose  it." 

"  I  think  you  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Emily. 
"  In  fact,  knowing  you  by  reputation  as  a  man  of  great 
shrewdness,  I  have  not  thought  that  you  were  telling  us 
your  true  ideas.  It  would  have  been  foolish  to  do  so." 


74  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

u  Perhaps,  though  sometimes  what  seems  foolish,  may 
be  wise." 

"  Quite  true.  And  now  gentlemen,  I  regret  the  neces- 
sity of  dismissing  you,  but  I  have  a  ball  on  hand  for  to- 
night, and  must  beg  you  to  excuse  us,  that  we  may 
prepare  for  it.  You  know  in  the  fashionable  world  we 
train  for  a  ball,  as  athletes  do  for  their  sports.  You  will 
forgive  my  sending  you  away  ?" 

This  was  her  way  and  men  never  resented  it.  They 
simply  obeyed.  Mr.  Barnes  was  delighted  that  both  the 
other  men  would  leave  with  him.  He  had  prepared  a 
trap  for  Mr.  Mitchel,  but  now  be  would  entice  two 
birds  into  it. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP. 

IT  must  not  be  supposed  from  what  has  been  related, 
that  Mr.  Barnes  had  lost  any  of  his  old  time  skill.  That 
he  did  not  yet  quite  understand  the  case  upon  which 
he  was  working,  is  little  to  be  wondered  at  when  it  is 
remembered  that  less  than  two  days  had  elapsed  since 
the  robbery  had  occurred,  and  that  a  great  part  of  this 
time  he  had  necessarily  been  absent  from  the  city  upon 
another  case. 

After  his  disappointment  at  discovering  that  the  but- 
ton which  he  had  found  was  less  valuable  than  he  had 
at  first  supposed,  he  had  decided  upon  a  mode  of  pro- 
cedure from  which  he  hoped  to  gain  much.  He  had 
seen  many  men  flinch  when  brought  unexpectedly 
into  the  presence  of  their  murdered  victim.  He  knew 
that  many  in  a  fit  of  passion,  or  even  in  cold  blood, 
might  have  the  nerve  to  take  human  life.  Few  resisted 
a  shudder  when  shown  the  ghastly,  mutilated,  perhaps 
decomposing  corpse.  When  he  left  the  hotel  that  morn- 
ing it  was  about  ten  o'clock.  Whilst  he  had  been  con- 
vinced by  Mr.  Mitchel  that  the  button  found  at  the  scene 
of  the  murder  was  not  one  of  the  original  set,  or  rather 
that  it  could  not  be  proven  that  it  had  been,  he  was 

75 


76  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

equally  satisfied,  that  the  fact  that  it  presented  a  portrait 
of  Miss  Remsen  was  significant.  Thus,  after  all,  it  was 
possible  that  Mr.  Mitchel  had  murdered  the  woman,  or 
at  least  he  had  visited  the  apartment.  In  either  case, 
supposing  that  he  knew  the  woman  was  dead,  it  would  be 
idle  to  take  him  up  three  flights  of  stairs  to  confront  him 
with  the  body,  for  that  would  give  him  ample  premoni- 
tion of  what  was  about  to  occur,  and  he  would  readily 
control  his  countenance.  This  is  what  the  detective 
did: 

He  went  at  once  to  the  coroner,  and  told  him  enough  to 
have  him  render  his  assistance.  Therefore  during  the 
time  which  had  elapsed,  the  coroner  had  impanelled  a 
jury,  taken  them  to  the  scene  of  the  crime,  and  then  ad- 
journed the  inquest,  leaving  the  doctors  to  perform  the  au- 
topsy. The  body  had  been  taken  down  to  a  room  on  the 
first  floor  which  opened  directly  on  the  main  hall.  Here  it 
was  laid  out  upon  a  table,  so  placed  that  the  gaping 
wound  and  now  hideous  face  would  at  once  meet  the 
gaze  of  any  one  entering.  The  doctors  had  been  in- 
structed to  postpone  their  work  until  the  arrival  of  the 
detective.  Thus  Mr.  Barnes  knew,  as  he  led  the  way 
down  stairs,  that  his  trap  was  set.  As  they  reached  the 
main  hall,  he  spoke  : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  about  to  ask  a  favor  of  you.  You 
were  both  on  the  train  when  the  robbery  was  committed. 
There  is  a  question  in  relation  to  it  which  I  should  like 
to  ask  both  of  you,  and  hear  each  answer  separately. 
Would  you  oblige  me  ?  " 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  7f 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  the  Frenchman. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  you  may  ask  me  any 
questions,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel. 

"  Thank  you."  Turning  to  the  hall-boy,  who  of  course 
had  been  taught  his  part,  he  continued  :  "  Can  we  find  a 
room  where  we  can  talk  privately  for  a  few  minutes  ?  " 

"  Yes  sir ;  step  this  way,"  and  the  boy  led  them  towards 
the  one  where  the  corpse  lay. 

"Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "will  you  wait  a  few 
minutes?  I  will  not  detain  you  long."  Mr.  Mitchel 
bowed,  and  the  Frenchman  followed  the  detective  into 
the  room,  the  boy  closing  the  door  after  them.  Nothing 
was  to  be  seen  save  the  table  bearing  the  body,  the  doc- 
tors being  hidden  in  a  room  beyond.  Mr.  Barnes  stopped 
near  the  corpse  and  simply  gazed  steadfastly  at  Mr.  Thau- 
ret,  who  in  turn  looked  intently  at  the  murdered  woman. 
Not  a  muscle  moved  to  show  any  agitation.  Mr.  Barnes 
waited  ;  but  apparently  nothing  was  to  happen  ;  yet  he 
was  determined  that  the  other  should  speak  first,  that  he 
might  draw  some  deduction  from  his  words.  Therefore 
he  maintained  a  stolid  silence.  Two  minutes  passed, 
which  seemed  an  age,  and  then  the  Frenchman  gave  the 
detective  a  genuine  surprise.  Looking  him  straight  in 
the  eyes  he  said  in  the  coolest  tones  imaginable  : 

"  How  did  you  discover  that  I  am  a  physician  ?  " 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  not  know- 
ing what  the  man  was  aiming  at. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  brought  me  into  this  room  saying  that 
you  wished  to  ask  me  a  question.  When  I  entered  and 


78  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

saw  this  corpse,  I  knew  at  once  that  your  pretended  ques- 
tioning was  but  a  subterfuge.  I  wondered  why  you 
brought  me  in  here,  and  whilst  thinking  it  out,  I  kept 
silent.  So  have  you.  Very  good.  All  I  can  make  of  it 
is,  that  this  woman  having  been  murdered,  and  knowing 
that  I  am  a  physician,  you  wished  an  expert  opinion 
in  the  case.  I  wondered  how  you  had  discovered  that 
I  have  a  medical  education,  and  so  I  asked  you  the 
question.  Do  I  make  myself  plain  ?  " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  the  detective,  coldly,  and  much  dis- 
appointed. "  My  reply  must  be  that  I  did  not  know  you 
to  be  a  physician,  and  that  I  did  bring  you  in  here  to 
ask  a  question." 

"  Indeed  !     Then  what  is  it  ?  " 
"  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  who  this  woman  is." 
"You  overrate  my  ability.     I  never  saw  the  woman 
before.     Is  there  anything  more  you  wish  to  say?" 
"Nothing." 

"Then  I  will  wish  you  good-morning."  With  a  polite 
bow,  and  drawing  on  his  glove,  Mr.  Thauret  started  to 
leave  the  room.  Mr.  Barnes  quickly  stepped  in  front  of 
him,  determined  that  he  should  not  have  a  chance  to 
warn  Mr.  Mitchel.  Opening  the  door,  he  then  let  him 
pass,  thus  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  two  others.  Mr.  Thau- 
ret  bowed  formally  to  Mr.  Mitchel  and  passed  out.  Then 
the  latter  followed  Mr.  Barnes  into  the  presence  of  the 
dead  woman.  If  Mr.  Thauret  was  undisturbed  at  the 
sight  which  met  him,  it  was  not  so  with  Mr.  Mitchel.  He 
had  scarcely  observed  what  was  before  him,  than  with  an 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  79 

ejaculation  of  horror  he  stepped  closer  to  the  corpse  and 

exclaimed  : 

"  My  God,  Mr.  Barnes,  what  does  this  mean  ?  " 

"  What  does  what  mean  ?  "  said  Mr.  Barnes,  quietly. 

The  two  men  stared  at  one  another  a  few  moments, 
when  Mr.  Mitchel,  suddenly  lowering  his  eyes  said,  "  I'm 
a  fool,"  and  once  more  turned  to  look  at  the  corpse. 
Presently  he  turned  and  said,  with  all  of  his  old  time 
composure  : 

"  You  said  you  wished  to  ask  me  a  question  !  What 
is  it?" 

"  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  who  this  woman  is  ?  " 

"  Was,  I  suppose  you  mean.     She  was  Rose  Mitchel." 

"  Ah!     Did  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  I  agreed  to  answer  but  one  question.  I  have  done  so.* 

"  You  have  admitted  that  you  knew  her." 

"  You  will  find  it  difficult  to  prove  that." 

"  Oh,  shall  I  ?  I  have  witnesses.  Gentlemen,  please 
come  forward."  A  door  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room 
opened,  and  two  physicians  entered.  The  detective 
continued,  "  What  have  you  to  say  now  ? " 

"  That  I  am  most  profoundly  indebted  to  you  for  hav- 
ing enabled  me  to  prove  what  has  happened,  and  also 
that  you  have  so  soon  let  me  know  that  we  are  not  alone." 
Mr.  Barnes  bit  his  lip  at  this  taunt,  and  Mr.  Mitchel,  turn- 
ing to  the  doctors,  continued,  "  Gentlemen,  I  am  delighted 
to  know  that  you  have  overheard  what  has  occurred. 
You  may  be  called  upon  to  give  testimony.  If  you  will 
remember,  I  think  that  you  will  admit  that  Mr.  Barnes 


8o  AH   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

asked  me  who  this  woman  is.  Correcting  his  grammar  I 
leplied,  *  She  was  Rose  Mitchel.'  Am  I  accurate  ?" 

"  Quite  so,"  said  one  of  the  doctors. 

"  Mr.  Barnes  claims  that  I  have  admitted  that  I  knew 
the  woman.  I  claim  that  I  have  merely  admitted  that  I 
knew  her  name,  which  is  a  very  different  thing." 

"  You  admitted  more  than  that,"  said  the  detective  tes- 
tily, "  for  you  must  have  known  more  than  her  name  to 
be  able  to  give  a  name  to  this  dead  body." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Barnes,  I  must  also  have 
known  her  face.  In  the  same  way  I  know  both  name  and 
face  of  Lillian  Russell.  Were  I  to  identify  her  dead 
body,  would  that  prove  that  I  was  a  personal  ac- 
quaintance ? " 

"  Certainly  not,  but  you  cannot  claim  that  this  woman 
was  known  to  you  in  that  way,  for  she  was  not  a  public 
character." 

"  How  do  you  know  that?" 

"  Well  then,  was  she  ?  " 

"  That  is  another  question,  and  I  decline  to  answer  it, 
at  least  before  witnesses.  If  you  will  walk  with  me  as 
far  as  my  hotel  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  to  explain  to  you 
how  I  could  identify  this  corpse  without  having  been 
acquainted  with  the  woman  herself." 

"  Of  course  I  will  go  with  you,  for  explain  this  you 
must "  ;  and  together  the  two  men  left  the  building. 

They  walked  across  to  Fifth  Avenue  and  down  that 
thoroughfare  for  several  blocks  in  silence.  Mr.  Mitchel 
was  evidently  thinking  over  the  position  in  which  he 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  81 

5ound  himself,  and  Mr.  Barnes  was  satisfied  not  to  hasten 
the  explanation.  He  thus  gave  himself  time  to  make  a 
few  mental  notes,  which  if  written  down  would  have  read 
as  follows: 

"  Why  did  both  of  these  men  start  when  I  said  that  the 
jewels  were  hidden  off  the  train  .  It  might  be  because 
both  knew  that  to  be  a  fact.  If  a  fact,  Thauret  might 
have  known  it,  because  he  himself  may  be  the  thief.  In 
that  case,  either  Mitchel  is  an  accomplice,  or  he  saw  the 
other  man  hide  the  satchel  at  some  station.  Could  Mit- 
chel himself  have  hidden  the  satchel  ?  How  could  he 
have  done  so  when  I  watched  his  section  all  night,  unless 
of  course  I  fell  asleep,  which  is  not  probable.  It  follows 
then  that  I  must  discover  what  acquaintanceship  exists 
between  these  men,  in  order  to  determine  whether  they 
are  in  league  together. 

"  Next,as  to  the  murder.  It  is  odd  to  find  both  men 
possessing  the  means  of  admittance  to  the  house.  It  is 
odd  that  both  were  undisturbed  and  plainly  incredulous 
when  I  suggested  that  the  woman  might  have  been  mur- 
dered to  obtain  the  jewels.  If  Thauret  killed  the  woman 
his  demeanor  in  the  presence  of  the  corpse  was  simply 
miraculous.  He  showed  not  the  least  agitation.  On  the 
other  hand  he  admitted  that  he  has  a  medical  education. 
Physicians  are  less  excited  by  cadavers,  and  what  is  more 
significant,  a  physician  would  know  how  to  find  the  jugu- 
lar vein  with  a  pen-knife.  Still  it  is  not  difficult  to  sevei 
that  vessel  without  special  knowledge.  As  to  Mitchel, 
his  behavior  is  more  mysterious.  Had  he  committed  the 


82  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

crime,  knowing  his  extraordinary  ability  to  control  his 
emotions,  I  had  a  right  to  expect  him  to  be  calm  before 
the  corpse.  Yet  he  was  much  excited,  and  went  towards 
the  body  for  a  closer  scrutiny.  Murderers  usually  shrink 
away  from  their  victims.  In  spite  of  that  he  gave  the 
woman's  name,  and  it  tallies  with  that  which  she  herself 
had  claimed.  Now,  if  he  was  willing  to  tell  me  the  name, 
and  if  he  committed  the  crime,  why  did  he  remove  the 
names  from  all  the  garments  ?  Why,  unless  Rose  Mitchel 
is  an  alias,  and  the  real  name  is  thus  kept  secret  ?  I  may 
ask  him  some  of  these  questions." 

At  this  point  Mr.  Mitchel  addressed  his  companion  : 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  I  should  like  to  know  of  what  you  have 
been  thinking  as  we  walked,  and  I  suppose  you  have  a 
similar  curiosity  regarding  my  own  thoughts.  I  mean  to 
gratify  you.  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  view  my  own 
position  from  your  point  of  view,  to  guess  what  your 
deductions  are  from  my  behavior  in  the  presence  of  that 
dead  woman." 

"  I  cannot  give  you  my  deductions,"  said  Mr.  Barnes, 
"  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  have  adopted  none  as  yet. 
It  has  always  been  my  practice  to  avoid  deciding  upon  a 
theory  too  early.  A  detective  with  a  theory  will  invaria- 
bly be  tempted  to  work  to  prove  his  assumption.  I  work 
to  discover  the  truth.  Therefore  I  avoid  theories." 

"  Good  !  I  see  that  my  opinion  of  detectives,  as  ex- 
pressed in  the  conversation  which  you  overheard,  must 
be  modified.  I  still  think  I  am  right  in  the  main,  but 
you  are  an  exception  to  the  general  rule." 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  83 

*  Mr.  Mitchel,  I  don't  care  for  compliments.  You  are 
at  present  in  a  very  suspicious  position.  You  said  you 
could  explain  how  you  were  able  to  identify  that  woman." 

"  I  will  do  so.  First  let  me  state  that  I  never  saw  her 
but  once  before  in  my  life.  The  story  is  very  short.  I 
have  been  in  this  city  less  than  two  years.  I  became  en- 
gaged to  Miss  Remsen  last  winter.  About  a  month  later 
I  received  a  letter  signed  Rose  Mitchel,  which  informed 
me  that  the  writer  could  divulge  a  secret  in  relation  to 
my  family  which  would  cause  Miss  Remsen  to  break  with 
me.  A  price  was  named  for  silence,  and  a  photograph 
enclosed  that  I  might  be  able  to  recognize  the  woman, 
for  she  boldly  announced  that  she  would  call  in  person 
for  the  money.  She  did  so,  and  I  have  never  seen  her 
again  till  to-day." 

"  Can  you  prove  this  story  ?  " 

"  I  will  show  you  the  letter  and  the  photograph  if  you 
will  come  with  me  to  the  Garfield  Safety  Vaults." 

"  I  will  go  with  you  at  once.  Did  you  pay  the  money 
demanded?" 

"I  did." 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  it  is  suspicious  for  a  man  to 
submit  to  blackmail  ?  It  tends  to  prove  that  he  is  in 
the  blackmailer's  power." 

"  That  is  correct.     I  was  in  this  woman's  power." 

"  That  is  a  serious  admission,  now  that  she  has  been 
murdered." 

"I  know  it.    But  here  we  are  at  the  vaults." 

The  two  men  entered  the  building,  and  Mr.  Mitchel 


84  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

obtained  the  key  to  his  compartment.  He  never  took  it 
away  from  the  place,  for  he  thought  it  safer  in  the  keeping 
of  the  officers  of  the  vaults.  Descending  into  the  great 
strong  room,  he  took  a  tin  box  from  his  drawer,  and  then 
went  into  a  little  private  room  provided  with  a  table  and 
chairs.  Opening  the  box  he  took  out  several  packages 
which  he  laid  on  one  side.  Amongst  these  the  detective 
was  amazed  to  see  a  red  Russia-leather  case  bound  around 
with  a  strap,  upon  which  appeared  the  name  MITCHEL, 
in  gold  letters.  Could  it  be  possible  that  this  was  the 
case  containing  the  missing  jewels. 

"  Ah  !  Here  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel.  "  Here  is  tht 
photograph."  He  handed  it  to  Mr.  Barnes,  who  saw  at 
once  that  it  was  the  picture  of  the  dead  woman.  "  And 
here  is  the  letter.  Shall  I  read  it  to  you  ? "  Mr.  Barnes 
assented  with  a  nod.  His  thoughts  were  mainly  upon  the 
red  leather  case.  Mr.  Mitchel  read  aloud  : 

"MR.  R.  MITCHEL, 

"DEAR  SIR: 

"  You  will  be  surprised  to  receive  this  from  one,  of 
whom  perhaps  you  know  little,  but  who  knows  much  con- 
cerning your  family.  So  much,  that  were  she  to  tell  all  she 
knows,  your  high-toned  sweetheart  would  send  you  adrift 
in  a  jiffy.  Some  say  that  silence  is  golden.  So  it  must 
be  in  this  case.  If  you  wish  me  to  keep  silent,  you  must 
be  ready  to  pay  me  ten  thousand  dollars  on  Thursday 
night,  when  I  shall  call  for  it.  I  send  my  photograph, 
that  you  may  know  I  am  the  writer  when  I  call.  You 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  85 

see  I  am  not  afraid  to  do  this,  because  if  you  call  in 
the  police,  I  will  simply  tell  my  story  and  you  will  be 
ruined.  I  may  go  to  jail,  but  that  does  not  worry  me 
much,  as  there  are  worse  places.  So  be  ready  to  receive 
me  on  Thursday  night.  Yours  truly, 

"  ROSE  MITCHEL." 

Mr.  Mitchel  handed  the  above  to  Mr.  Barnes,  who  read 
it  over  carefully,  examining  the  envelope  and  postmark, 
both  of  which  proved  that  the  letter  was  genuine  and  a 
year  old. 

"Did  you  give  her  the  amount  demanded?"  asked 
Mr.  Barnes. 

"  I  must  explain  what  I  did.  When  I  received  that 
letter,  it  was  plain  that  there  would  be  nothing  to  lose  by 
receiving  the  woman  and  hearing  her  story.  I  determined 
not  to  give  her  any  money ;  therefore,  when  she  called, 
of  course  I  did  not  have  any  such  sum.  After  listening 
to  her  I  changed  my  mind.  I  found  that,  through  certain 
papers  which  she  had,  and  which  she  did  not  hesitate  to 
show  me,  she  would  be  able  to  ventilate  a  scandal  which 
might  result  just  as  she  adroitly  prophesied.  I  mean  in 
the  rupture  of  my  engagement.  Naturally  I  wished  to 
avoid  that.  When  I  told  her  that  she  should  have  the 
money  if  she  would  call  again,  she  became  furious.  Said 
I  had  tricked  her,  and  now  wanted  a  chance  to  hand  her 
over  to  the  police,  etc.  I  saw  that  I  must  settle  with  her 
at  once,  and  did  so  on  these  terms.  I  agreed  to  give  her 
cash  enough  to  go  to  Europe,  and  the  balance  in  jewels." 


86  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME.  /     • 

"  In  jewels  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Barnes,  startled. 

"Yes,  in  jewels.  You  are  surprised ;  but  that  is  be- 
cause you  do  not  know  my  hobby.  I  am  a  collector  of 
jewels.  I  have  half  a  million  dollars'  worth  in  these 
vaults.  Therefore,  whilst  I  had  no  such  amount  in  cash 
as  ten  thousand  dollars,  I  could  easily  give  her  three 
diamond  rings,  which  I  did,  with  a  letter  to  a  Paris  jew- 
eller, who  would  purchase  them  from  her.  Thus  was  I  rid 
of  the  woman,  part  of  the  agreement  being  that  she  should 
never  return." 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  a  man  of  your  intelligence  must  have 
known  that  such  promises  are  not  kept  by  that  class 
of  people." 

"  True,  but  I  obtained  from  her  all  the  documentary 
evidence  which  she  had,  so  that  I  rendered  her  powerless 
to  annoy  me  further.  You  said  awhile  ago  that  it  was  a 
serious  admission  for  me  to  make  that  I  was  in  this 
woman's  power.  I  suppose  you  meant  that  such  a  fact 
supplied  a  motive  for  this  murder.  Now  you  see  that 
this  is  not  true  since  I  can  prove  that  I  released  myself 
from  that  position  a  year  ago." 

"  How  can  you  prove  that  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  woman's  receipt,  in  which  she  states  that 
for  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars  or  its  equivalent,  she 
delivers  to  me  family  documents,  etc." 

"  Have  you  the  documents  still  ?  ** 

"  I  prefer  not  to  reply  to  that  question." 

"  Very  good,  but  answer  me  this  one.  Where  did  you 
obtain  this  leather  case,  and  what  does  it  contain  ?  "  As 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  87 

he  said  this  the  detective  picked  up  the  case  and  held  it 
before  Mr.  Mitchel's  eyes.  That  gentleman  was  evidently 
confused  for  a  moment,  but  finally  answered : 

"  It  contains  some  jewels." 

"  Jewels  ?  That  is  what  I  thought.  May  I  examine 
them?" 

"  Not  with  my  permission." 

"  Then  I  must  do  so  without,"  and  with  a  quick  move- 
ment the  case  lay  open  on  the  table.  It  was  lined  with 
black  satin,  and  contained  gems  similar  to  those  described 
in  the  paper  found  in  the  dead  woman's  pocket.  What 
seemed  more  important  however,  was  a  piece  of  writing- 
paper  upon  which  Mr.  Barnes  found  an  exact  copy  of  the 
list  and  description  which  he  had  in  his  pocket.  The 
detective  noticed  with  astonishment  that  though  Mr. 
Mitchel  had  refused  to  permit  this  examination  of  the 
contents  of  the  case,  he  made  no  effort  to  prevent  it,  and 
now  sat  back  looking  on  in  the  most  unconcerned  way. 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "  why  did  you  object 
to  my  looking  into  this  case  ?  " 

"  I  never  show  my  jewels  to — strangers.  It  is  wrong 
to  tempt  people." 

"  You  are  impertinent,  sir!    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  I  regulate  my  life  by  rule.  This  is  one 
of  my  rules,  and  though  I  do  not  doubt  your  honesty, 
you  are  a  stranger  to  me  and  so  come  within  the  operation 
of  my  rule." 

"  Your  cool  impudence  will  not  avail  you  in  this  in- 
stance. These  are  the  stolen  jewels." 


88  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  Indeed!  Do  you  discover  that,  as  you  claim  to  have 
detected  the  thief,  simply  by  looking  at  them  ? "  Mr. 
Mitchel  assumed  that  sarcastic  tone  which  had  several 
times  irritated  the  detective. 

"  Have  done  with  child's  play,"  said  Mr.  Barnes.  "  I 
have  a  list  of  the  lost  jewels,  and  this  case  with  its  con- 
tents accurately  matches  the  description.  What  is  more, 
this  list  in  your  possession,  is  the  fac-simile,  of  the  one 
which  I  have  in  my  pocket." 

"Ah!  Now  we  come  to  tangible  facts  and  leave  the 
realm  of  psychology,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel  leaning  forward, 
with  evident  interest.  "  Let  me  understand  this.  You 
have  a  list  of  the  stolen  jewels.  That  paper  is  a  fac- 
simile of  this  one  here.  The  description  too  tallies  with 
the  case  and  jewels.  Is  that  right  ?  " 

"That  is  quite  right.  Now  can  your  remarkable 
inventive  faculty  fashion  a  story  to  meet  this  emer- 
gency ?  " 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  do  me  an  injustice.  I  am  no  ro- 
mancer. That  is  the  difference  between  myself  and  the 
criminal  class,  with  which  you  deal.  Those  poor  devils 
commit  a  crime  and  depend  upon  a  sequence  of  lies  to 
clear  themselves.  On  the  contrary  I  follow  this  rule : 
'Refuse  to  answer  all  questions,  or  else  answer  truth- 
fully.' Now  in  this  case  there  are  some  points,  as  puz- 
zling to  me  as  to  yourself.  Them  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
explain.  One  of  them  is  how  you  can  possibly  have  a 
duplicate  list  of  my  jewels,  for  these  are  mine  I  assure 
you." 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  89 

a  Here  is  the  list,"  said  the  detective,  taking  it  from 
his  pocket  and  comparing  it  with  the  other  ;  "  and  by 
heavens,"  he  continued  "  the  writing  is  the  same." 

"  That  is  interesting,  let  me  look,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel. 
With  which  he  arose,  walked  around  to  the  other  side 
of  the  table  and  stood  leaning  over  the  detective.  "  You 
see,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  let  me  take  your  paper  from  you. 
You  might  suspect  that  I  would  destroy  it."  Mr.  Barnes 
handed  both  papers  to  him  without  a  word.  Mr.  Mitchel 
bowed  as  he  took  them  and  returned  to  his  seat.  After 
a  moment's  careful  examination  he  handed  them  back 
saying : 

"I  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Barnes.  The  writing  is  the 
same.  What  deduction  do  you  draw  from  that  fact  ?  " 

"  What  deduction  !  Why  I  found  this  description  of 
the  stolen  jewels  in  the  pocket  of  a  dress  belonging  to 
Rose  Mitchel." 

"  What  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  was  the  woman 
who  was  robbed?"  The  blank  amazement  upon  Mr. 
Mitchel's  face  disconcerted  Mr  Barnes,  for  if  he  did  not 
know  this,  the  mystery  seemec  deeper  than  ever. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  did  not  know  it  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Barnes. 

"  How  should  I  know  it  ?  " 

This  caused  a  silence.  Both  men  stopped  a  moment  to 
consider  the  situation.  At  length  Mr.  Barnes  said  coldly: 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  I  am  under  the  painful  necessity  of 
placing  you  under  arrest." 

44  Upon  what  charge  ?  " 


I 

9O  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

"  Upon  the  charge  of  having  stolen  jewels,  and  per- 
haps of  having  murdered  Rose  Mitchel." 

"  Are  you  in  a  hurry  to  take  me  with  you  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Mitchel  coolly. 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"  Because  if  not,  I  should  like  to  ask  you  one  or  two 
questions." 

"  You  may  do  so.H 

"  First,  then,  as  the  robbery  was  committed  on  a  moving 
train,  will  you  tell  me  how  you  suppose  it  to  have  been 
accomplished,  since  the  passengers  were  searched  ?  "  Mr. 
Barnes  had  his  own  idea  on  this  subject  which  he  did  not 
choose  to  tell.  He  thought  it  well,  however,  to  pretend 
that  he  had  still  another  theory.  At  least  he  could  ob- 
serve how  Mr.  Mitchel  received  it. 

"  As  you  say,  all  were  searched.  The  first  was  Mr. 
Thauret.  Nothing  was  found.  Let  us  suppose  a  case. 
This  man  Thauret  was  in  the  same  carriage  with  the 
woman  Rose  Mitchel.  When  the  train  stopped  at  New 
Haven,  suppose  that  he  took  the  satchel,  left  the  train 
and  passed  it  to  you  through  the  window  of  your  section, 
thinking  that  only  his  carriage  would  be  searched.  After 
his  own  examination,  he  left  the  train  at  Stamford.  Why 
may  he  not  have  tapped  upon  your  window  and  have  re- 
ceived back  the  satchel  ? " 

"That  would  make  him  my  accomplice.  You  are 
wrong.  I  do  not  know  the  man  at  all."" 

"  You  admitted  having  met  him  when  Miss  Dora  Rem- 
sen  introduced  him  to  you." 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  9\ 

M  Once  only.  At  a  gaming  table.  That  is  why  I  was 
displeased  to  see  him  in  the  home  of  my  intended.  Pass- 
ing the  robbery  then,  for  despite  my  denial  you  may  think 
your  explanation  correct,  and  a  jury  might  agree  with 
you,  let  us  come  to  the  murder.  Do  you  suppose  a  man 
would  make  a  wager  to  commit  a  crime,  and  then  go  to 
the  extreme  of  killing  a  woman." 

"  I  do  not !  But  having  committed  the  robbery,  and 
then  having  discovered  that  this  woman,  who  you  say  has 
blackmailed  you,  had  actually  taken  an  apartment  in  the 
same  building  with  your  affianced,  you  may  have  gone 
there  to  urge  her  to  leave,  and  have  killed  her  to  save 
yourself." 

"  Plainly  you  do  not  know  me.  There  is  one  point  in 
what  you  say  which  is  interesting.  Did  I  understand  that 
this  woman  had  an  apartment  in  the  Thirtieth  Street 
building." 

"  Certainly,  and  you  knew  it." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  Let  us  return  to  the  jewels.  You 
think  that  these  are  the  missing  gems.  If  I  prove  to  the 
contrary,  will  you  agree  not  to  place  me  under  arrest  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  the  detective,  feeling  safe  in  the 
idea  that  what  Mr.  Mitchel  offered  to  do  was  an  impos- 
sibility. 

"  Thank  you.  That  gives  me  my  freedom,  in  exchange 
for  which  courtesy  I  promise  you  all  the  assistance  in  my 
power  in  finding  the  murderer."  Saying  which  Mr. 
Mitchel  touched  an  electric-button  and  when  it  was 
answered  sent  a  message  up-stairs  asking  Mr.  Charles  to 


92  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

come  down.  In  a  few  moments,  that  gentleman  ap- 
peared. 

"  Mr.  Charles,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  would  it  be  possible 
for  me  to  enter  these  vaults  without  your  knowledge  ?" 

"  It  would  be  impossible  for  any  one  to  enter  her« 
without  my  knowledge,"  said  Mr.  Charles. 

"  You  keep  my  key,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  I  ever  taken  it  out  of  this  building." 

"  No,  sir." 

"Then  you  think  it  impossible  that  I  should  have 
been  able  to  have  a  duplicate  key,  and  to  have  entered 
here  without  your  knowledge  ?  '* 

"  An  utter  impossibility,  sir." 

"  Can  you  remember  when  I  was  here  last  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  It  was  about  two  weeks  ago,  when  you 
told  me  that  you  were  going  to  Boston." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Charles.  That  is  all." 
Mr,  Charles  retired  and  Mr.  Mitchel  looked  at  Mr.  Barnes 
with  a  smile,  saying  : 

"  You  see  you  are  wrong  again.  The  jewels  were  stolen 
yesterday  morning,  and  I  have  not  been  to  this  place 
since,  and  therefore  could  not  have  placed  them  in  this 
box.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

"  No.  If  you  were  able  to  commit  the  robbery  on  the 
train,  whilst  I  watched  your  section  all  night,  and  to  have 
succeeded  in  getting  the  jewels  away  although  you  were 
searched,  you  are  ingenious  enough  to  have  found  a  way 
of  getting  here  without  the  knowledge  of  Mr.  Charles. 


MR.  BARNES'S  TRAP.  93 

Or,  he  may  be  paid  to  lie  for  you.  I  feel  too  sure  that 
these  are  the  gems,  to  be  so  readily  convinced  to  the 
contrary." 

"  So  you  did  watch  me  that  night.  Well,  I  am  sorry 
you  had  so  much  trouble.  I  must  give  you  further  proof  ? 
Very  good.  Examine  these."  He  took  out  a  package  of 
letters  and  from  them  extracted  a  bill-of-sale,  dated  five 
years  previous,  in  which  was  once  more  an  accurate 
description  of  the  jewels  and  case.  In  addition  there  was 
panned  to  it  a  receipt  from  the  New  York  Custom  House 
fc>r  the  duties  paid,  which  paper  was  also  dated  back. 
This  was  evidence  which  Mr.  Barnes  could  not  refute. 
Plainly  this  particular  set  of  jewels  belonged  to  Mr. 
Mitchel. 

"  That  is  sufficient.  It  would  be  folly  to  arrest  you 
when  you  could  show  those  documents  to  any  judge  and 
be  released.  At  the  same  time,  I  shall  not  forget  the 
coincidence  of  these  two  lists,  and  that  one  of  the 
button." 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Barnes,  would  you  mind  saying  where 
you  found  that  button  ? " 

"  In  the  room  where  the  woman  was  murdered." 

"  No  wonder  you  valued  it.  I  am  surprised  that  you 
should  have  presented  it  to  Miss  Remsen."  There  was  a 
twinkle  in  Mr.  Mitchel's  eye  which  annoyed  Mr.  Barnes, 
but  he  made  no  reply.  Mr.  Mitchel  continued  : 

"  In  consideration  of  your  not  placing  me  under  arrest, 
Mr.  Barnes,  I  will  give  you  a  hint.  I  made  that  wager 
with  my  friend  Randolph  yesterday  morning,  that  is  to 


94  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

say  December  zd.  I  have  until  January  ad,  to  commit 
the  crime  about  which  the  bet  was  made.  Should  you 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  am  not  guilty  of  either 
of  those  now  engaging  your  attention,  it  might  enter 
your  head  that  I  still  have  a  crime  on  hand,  and  it  might 
pay  you  to  watch  me.  Do  you  catch  the  idea  ?  " 

"  There  is  little  danger  of  your  committing  any  crime 
during  the  next  month  without  my  knowing  of  it,"  said 
Mr.  Barnes. 

"  Now  let  us  change  the  subject.  Do  you  see  this 
ruby  ? "  taking  a  large  ruby  from  the  case  before  them. 
"  I  am  thinking  of  having  it  set  as  a  present  to  Miss  Renv 
sen.  Will  she  not  be  envied  when  she  wears  it  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MR.    RANDOLPH    HAS    A    FIGHT     WITH    HIS    CONSCIENCE. 

UPON  leaving  the  vaults  Mr.  Mitchel  and  the  detec- 
tive parted  company,  the  former  going  down  to  Tiffany's 
where  he  left  the  ruby  with  instructions  as  to  how  he 
wished  it  set.  On  the  following  morning  Wilson's  report 
to  Mr.  Barnes  stated  that  Mr.  Mitchel  had  spent  the  after- 
noon at  the  Union  League  Club,  and  had  accompanied 
his  fiancee  to  a  private  ball  in  the  evening. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th,  as  Mr.  Mitchel  was  dress- 
ing, a  card  was  brought  to  him  which  bore  the  name  of 
his  friend,  Mr.  Randolph,  and  that  gentleman  a  few  min- 
utes later  entered.  Mr.  Mitchel  was  cordial  in  his  greet- 
ing and  extended  his  hand,  but  Mr.  Randoph  refused  it 
saying : 

"  Excuse  me,  Mitchel,  but  I  have  come  to  see  you 
about  that  wager  I  was  stupid  enough  to  make  with  you." 

"Well,  what  of  it!" 

"  I  did  not  suppose  that  you  would  go  so  far." 

"  So  far  as  what  ?  " 

"  Why  have  n't  you  read  the  papers  ?  " 

"  No  !  I  never  do  !  I  am  above  that  class  of  litera- 
ture." 

"  Then  with  your  permission  I  will  read  one  to  you." 
OS 


96  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  Go  ahead,  I  am  all  attention."  Mr.  Mitchel  seated 
himself  in  his  most  comfortable  armchair,  and  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph without  removing  his  overcoat,  sat  in  another. 
Taking  a  morning  paper  from  his  pocket  he  read  the 
following : 

"  The  inquest  upon  the  body  of  the  mysterious  woman 
found  murdered  in  the  Thirtieth  Street  apartment-house 
was  resumed  yesterday  at  the  coroner's  office.  Mr. 
Barnes,  the  well-known  detective,  testified  that  he  had 
been  upon  the  Boston  Express  at  the  time  of  the  robbery 
of  the  jewels.  That  he  had  an  interview  with  the  woman 
at  which  she  gave  the  name  Rose  Mitchel,  and  made 
an  appointment  with  him  at  her  residence.  He  called  at 
the  time  agreed  upon,  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
3d,  and  discovered  her  lying  in  bed  with  her  throat 
cut.  One  singular  fact  brought  out  by  the  detective's 
testimony  is  that  the  woman's  name  had  been  deliberately 
cut  from  every  garment.  This  may  indicate  that  Rose 
Mitchel  is  an  assumed  name. 

"  The  doctors  who  performed  the  autopsy,  declare  it  as 
their  opinion  that  the  woman  was  attacked  whilst  she 
slept.  Otherwise  there  would  have  been  more  blood 
stains  found,  as  the  jugular  vein  and  carotid  artery  were 
both  cut.  They  think  that  the  assassin  used  an  ordinary 
pocket  knife,  because  the  wound  though  deep,  is  not 
very  large. 

"  A  curious  story  was  obtained  from  the  janitor.  The 
woman  Mitchel  had  been  in  the  house  about  three  weeks. 
She  was  not  a  tenant,  but  occupied  the  apartments  of 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  97 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Comstock,  who  are  absent  in  Europe.  The 
woman  gave  him  a  letter  purporting  to  be  written  by  Mrs. 
Comstock,  instructing  the  janitor  to  allow  the  bearer  to 
occupy  the  apartment  until  suited  elsewhere,  and  also 
asking  that  the  janitor's  wife  would  see  that  she  had  proper 
attendance.  The  janitor  did  not  doubt  the  authenticity 
of  the  letter,  but  it  now  appears  from  the  testimony  of  a 
relative  of  the  Comstocks,  who  is  well  acquainted  with 
Mrs.  Comstock's  writing,  that  this  letter  is  a  forgery. 

"  After  a  little  further  evidence  of  no  special  importance 
the  inquest  was  adjourned  until  to-day.  It  is  plain  that  the 
detectives  are  all  at  sea  in  this  case.  A  startling  piece  of 
evidence  has  now  been  obtained  by  a  reporter  which  may 
serve  as  a  clue.  It  is  no  less  than  the  discovery  of  the 
lost  jewels.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Barnes  was 
on  the  train,  and  ordered  that  the  passengers  should  be 
searched.  Nothing  was  found,  from  which  it  seemed  safe 
to  presume  that  there  were  two  persons  connected  with 
the  theft.  One  of  these  secured  the  plunder  and  handed 
it  through  a  window  of  the  car  to  his  accomplice  outside. 
A  reporter  went  over  the  route  yesterday,  beginning  his 
investigation  in  New  Haven.  He  went  the  rounds  of  the 
hotels,  endeavoring  to  discover  if  any  suspicious  person 
had  been  noticed  in  the  city.  At  one  of  the  last  which 
he  visited,  which  is  about  five  minutes  walk  from  the  rail- 
road depot,  the  clerk  remembered  a  man  who  did  act 
strangely.  It  seems  that  this  man  came  into  the  hotel  at 
about  noon  on  the  third,  registered,  asked  that  his  satchel 

should  be  placed  in  the  safe,  went  out  and  had  not 

i 


98  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

returned  since.  The  reporter  at  once  guessed  that  this 
was  the  missing  satchel,  and  so  stating,  the  chief  of  police 
was  sent  for,  and  in  his  presence  it  was  opened.  In  it  was 
found  a  red  Russia  leather  case  containing  unset  jewels 
of  such  size  and  lustre  that  one  can  well  believe  that  they 
are  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  as  claimed.  That 
these  are  the  missing  gems  is  plainly  indicated  by  the 
fact  that  the  jewel-case  has  the  name  of  MITCHEL 
stamped  upon  it.  Unfortunately  there  was  nothing  about 
the  satchel,  or  in  it,  which  gives  any  clue  to  the  thief 
himself.  The  clerk,  however,  remembers  him  distinctly, 
and  from  his  description  the  detectives  hope  soon  to  have 
him  under  lock  and  key." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  that,  Mitchel  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  just  that  kind  of  thing  that  made  me  give 
up  reading  the  newspapers.  A  sensational  description  of 
a  mysterious  robbery  and  murder.  Yet  if  one  reads  the 
papers  he  must  submit  to  that  almost  every  day." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  this  particular  case  has  no  interest 
to  you  ? " 

"  Why  should  it  interest  me.  Because  I  happened  to 
be  on  the  train  and  was  compelled  to  submit  to  being 
searched  by  an  order  from  a  blundering  detective  ? " 

"  There  is  more  reason  than  that  for  attracting  your 
attention.  Any  man  with  a  grain  of  sense,  and  with  the 
knowledge  of  your  wager,  must  see  your  hand  in  this  ?  " 

"  In  which,  the  robbery,  or  the  murder  ? " 

"  My  God,  I  don't  know.  You  and  I  have  been  the 
best  of  friends  ever  since  we  first  met.  I  have  stood  by 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  $9 

you  and  believed  in  you  in  spite  of  all  that  your  enemies 
have  said  against  you.  But  now " 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  what  to  think.  You  bet  me  that 
you  would  commit  a  crime.  In  a  few  hours  there  is  a  rob- 
bery, and  a  little  later  a  woman  is  killed  in  the  very  house 
where  the  Remsens  lived.  It  is  known, — there  is  another 
account  in  another  paper  here — it  is  known  that  you 
were  in  that  house  for  an  hour,  after  11:30  at  night, 
and  that  whilst  you  were  there  a  woman  was  heard  to 
scream  from  that  apartment  where  the  corpse  was  found. 
Then  here  they  find  the  jewels,  and  the  case  had  your 
name  on  it." 

"  The  woman's  name  you  mean.  The  paper  made  that 
deduction  I  think." 

"  That  is  true.  I  did  not  think  of  that.  Of  course  it 
was  her  name,  but  don't  you  see  I  am  all  muddled  up  and 
excited.  I  came  here  to  ask  you  to  say  outright  that  you 
have  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  thing." 

"  That  is  impossible." 

"  What,  you  refuse  ?  You  will  not  claim  that  you  are  in- 
nocent ?  Then  you  practically  admit  that  you  are  guilty  !  " 

"  I  do  not.  I  neither  deny  nor  admit  anything.  Do 
you  remember  our  wager  ?  I  told  you  then  that  this 
crisis  would  arise.  That  you  would  hear  of  some  crime 
and  come  to  ask  me  about  it.  I  warned  you  that  I  would 
refuse  to  enlighten  you.  I  simply  keep  my  word." 

This  was  followed  by  a  silence.  Mr.  Randolph  seemed 
much  disturbed.  Jamming  his  hands  into  his  pockets  he 


100  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

went  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  Mr.  Mitchel  looked 
at  him  for  some  minutes  with  a  smile  of  amusement 
hovering  about  his  lips.  Suddenly  he  said  : 

"  Randolph,  does  your  conscience  trouble  you  ?  " 

"  Most  decidedly  !  "  answered  his  companion  sharply, 
turning  towards  him. 

"  Why  not  go  and  unburden  your  soul  to  the  police  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so.  But  I  feel  like  a 
coward  at  the  idea.  It  seems  like  betraying  a  friend." 

"  Ah  !  You  still  count  me  your  friend.  Then,  my 
dear  friend,  for  I  assure  you  I  value  your  good  will,  I 
will  show  you  how  to  act  so  as  to  satisfy  your  conscience, 
and  yet  not  injure  me." 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  you  would." 

"  Nothing  easier.  Go  to  Mr.  Barnes  and  make  a  clean 
breast  of  all  that  you  know." 

"  But  that  is  betraying  you  to  the  police." 

"  No  ;  Mr.  Barnes  is  not  the  police — he  is  only  a  private 
detective.  If  you  remember,  he  is  the  very  one  about 
whom  we  were  talking  when  the  wager  was  made.  You 
were  boasting  of  his  skill.  It  should  satisfy  you  then  to 
have  him  on  my  track,  and  it  will  satisfy  me,  if  you  agree 
to  talk  with  no  other.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 

"  Yes,  since  you  are  willing.  I  must  tell  some  one  in 
authority.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  withhold  what  may 
be  the  means  of  detecting  a  criminal." 

Mr.  Randolph,  upon  leaving  the  hotel,  went  in  search 
of  Mr.  Barnes.  Meanwhile  that  gentleman  was  holding 
a  conversation  with  Wilson. 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  IOI 

"You  say,"  said  the  detective,  "that  Mr.  Mitchel  gave 
you  the  slip  again  yesterday  afternoon  ? " 

"Yes.  He  doubled  so  often  on  his  tracks  on  the 
elevated  road  that  at  last  he  eluded  me,  getting  on  a  train 
which  I  failed  to  board.  You  see  it  was  impossible  to  tell, 
till  the  moment  of  starting,  whether  he  would  take  a  train 
or  not.  He  would  mix  with  the  crowd  and  seem  anxious 
to  get  on,  and  then  at  the  last  moment  step  back.  I  had  to 
imitate  him  at  the  other  end  of  the  coach,  and  finally  he 
got  on  just  as  the  guard  at  my  end  slammed  the  gates." 

"  This  was  at  Forty-second  Street  ?  " 

"  Yes.     He  took  the  down  train." 

"  Did  he  notice  you  in  any  way  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so  ;  but  no  one  would  have  guessed  it.  He 
appeared  entirely  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  he  was  followed, 
so  far  as  watching  me  was  concerned." 

"  You  are  not  to  blame.  Go  back  to  his  hotel,  and  do 
the  best  you  can.  Leave  the  rest  to  me.  I  will  discover 
where  it  is  he  goes  on  these  mysterious  trips." 

Left  to  himself  Mr.  Barnes's  thoughts  took  this  form  : 

"  Wilson  is  no  match  for  Mr.  Mitchel,  that  is  evident. 
I  wonder  whether  there  is  any  real  object  in  this  game  of 
hide  and  seek  ;  or  whether  it  is  simply  an  intimation  to 
me  that  he  cannot  be  shadowed  ?  If  the  latter — well,  we 
shall  see.  Now  let  me  think  about  those  jewels  found  in 
New  Haven.  They  tally  exactly  with  the  description. 
Their  discovery  complicates  the  case  once  more.  I  had 
almost  concluded  that  those  in  the  safety  vaults  were  the 
ones  stolen,  and  that  as  they  really  belong  to  Mr.  Mitchel, 


102  AN   ARTIST  TN  CRIME. 

as  proven  by  his  receipts,  he  stole  them  to  win  his  wager. 
In  this  way  he  ran  no  risk,  since,  if  the  crime  were  brought 
home  to  him,  he  could  not  be  imprisoned,  though  he 
would  lose  the  bet.  Now  here  is  another  set,  evidently 
the  right  ones.  Mr.  Mitchel  was  plainly  surprised  at 
sight  of  the  list  which  I  found.  I  am  sure  he  did  not 
know  of  its  existence.  Therefore  he  may  equally  as  well 
have  known  nothing  about  this  duplicate  set  of  jewels. 
In  that  case  the  occurrence  of  the  train  robbery  on  the 
very  night  of  the  wager,  may  be  simply  a  coincidence. 
He  says  that  the  dead  woman  was  a  blackmailer,  and  that 
he  gave  her  the  address  of  his  Paris  jeweller.  May  he  not 
have  bought  his  set  from  that  very  man,  and  may  not  this 
woman  have  stolen  the  duplicate  set  recently,  and  brought 
them  to  this  country  ?  Plainly  the  Paris  jeweller  must  be 
looked  up.  I  have  his  name  which  I  copied  from  the  bill 
of  sale.  If  this  line  of  argument  is  true,  some  one  has 
followed  this  woman  from  France,  in  order  to  rob  her, 
after  allowing  her  to  accomplish  the  risky  business  of 
smuggling.  Is  that  person  our  friend  Thauret  ?  Along 
this  line  of  argument  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that 
Mr.  Mitchel  has  not  yet  committed  his  crime.  He  hinted 
that  I  should  remember  this  if  I  should  exculpate  him 
from  those  already  committed.  But  do  I  ?  Why  did  he 
show  me  that  ruby  and  say  that  he  meant  to  present  it  to 
his  sweetheart  ?  Will  he  give  it  to  her,  and  then  rob  her 
of  it  ?  If  so,  will  she  be  in  the  plot,  and  make  a  hue  and 
cry,  so  that  the  papers  may  make  a  noise  ?  That  was  a 
part  of  the  agreement  in  making  his  bet.  But  after  all, 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  103 

what  about  that  button  ?  No  explanation  explains,  which 
does  not  throw  a  light  upon  that." 

Here  Mr.  Barnes  was  interrupted  by  the  announce- 
ment that  Mr.  Randolph  wished  to  speak  with  him.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Randolph  was  not  aware  of 
the  fact  that  the  conversation  in  the  sleeping-car  had  been 
overheard.  Brought  face  to  face  with  Mr.  Barnes  he  felt 
confused,  and  hesitated. 

"  Mr.  Randolph,  I  believe,"  said  the  detective,  glancing 
at  the  card  which  had  been  sent  in.  "  Be  seated.  You 
have  come  to  see  me  about  this  Mitchel  case  ? "  The 
rising  inflection  with  which  the  last  word  was  spoken 
seemed  almost  unnecessary  to  Mr.  Randolph.  For  if  the 
man  could  ask  such  a  question,  he  might  as  well  have 
made  it  a  positive  statement.  This  assumption  of  know- 
ledge made  him  more  than  ever  confident  of  the  skill  of 
detectives,  and  especially  of  the  one  before  him. 

"  You  know  that  ?  "  said  he.  "  Would  you  mind  telling 
me  how  ?  " 

"  We  detectives  are  supposed  to  know  everything,  are 
we  not  ? "  This  was  said  with  an  affable  smile,  but  the 
answer  plainly  indicated  that  Mr.  Barnes  preferred  not 
to  be  interrogated.  Mr.  Randolph  therefore  concluded  to 
hurry  through  with  his  unpleasant  business. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  I  have  a  confession  to  make,  and " 

"  I  must  interrupt  you,  to  remind  you  that  whatever 
you  say  is  unsolicited,  and  that  if  you  incriminate  your- 
self, the  evidence  will  be  used  against  you." 

u  Thank  you  for  your  warning,  but  I  have  come  here 


XO4  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

that  I  may  not  be  incriminated.  The  facts  in  brief  are 
simply  these."  Then  he  narrated  as  accurately  as  he 
could  recall  them,  all  the  circumstances  in  connection 
with  the  wager.  Mr.  Barnes  listened  as  though  it  was  all 
a  new  story  to  him.  He  even  jotted  down  a  few  notes 
on  a  bit  of  paper  as  though  for  reference.  At  the  conclu- 
sion he  said : 

"  This  is  a  most  astounding  tale,  Mr.  Randolph.  It  is 
very  difficult  to  believe  that  a  man  like  Mr.  Mitchel,  who 
certainly  seems  to  be  a  gentleman,  would  undertake  to 
become  a  criminal  simply  to  win  a  sum  of  money.  Now 
you  must  have  been  thinking  this  over,  and  if  so,  you 
have  some  explanation  to  offer.  Would  you  mind  telling 
it  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  do  so."  Mr.  Randolph  spoke 
eagerly.  In  his  heart  he  was  fond  of  his  friend,  and 
therefore  his  theory  was  one  which  in  a  measure  would 
excuse  him.  He  was  delighted  to  have  the  chance  of 
confiding  his  views  to  the  detective.  "  You  see,"  he  con- 
tinued, "it  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  the  world 
to  say  who  is,  and  who  is  not  perfectly  sane.  Some 
experts  contend  that  nine  tenths  of  the  people  in  the 
world  are  affected  by  mania  in  some  form  or  other.  I 
hold  that  any  man  who  makes  a  collection  of  any  kind 
of  things,  using  them  for  other  than  their  legitimate  uses, 
is  in  a  measure  insane." 

"  Do  you  mean  legally  insane  ?  That  is  to  say  irre- 
sponsible ?  " 

"As  to  responsibility,  I  cannot  say.     But  I  think  such  a 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  IO$ 

mania  might  tempt  a  man  to  an  illegal  act.  I  must  explain 
my  idea  further.  Postage  stamps  undoubtedly  have  a 
very  important  value.  One  who  collects  them  after  they 
have  been  cancelled,  paying  many  times  their  face  value 
for  them,  is  in  my  opinion  somewhat  crazy,  since  he  pays 
a  fictitious  price  for  what  has  no  intrinsic  value." 

"You  might  say  the  same  thing  of  paintings.  Th« 
intrinsic  value  represented  in  canvas  and  oil  is  little,  yet 
thousands  of  dollars  are  paid  for  pictures." 

"  That,  too,  is  an  insanity,  one  of  course  which  cannot 
be  indulged  in  by  any  save  the  rich.  But  it  is  not  the  same 
as  with  the  old  stamp  craze.  Pictures  remind  us  of  nature, 
And  appeal  to  the  senses  of  all  mankind,  by  recalling 
recollections  brought  into  being  by  the  scene  presented. 
There  is  therefore  a  legitimate  use  for  paintings,  and  a 
reasonable  price  as  compensation  for  the  work  and  genius 
of  the  artist  is  perhaps  permissible.  But  should  a  man 
pay  a  fortune  for  a  single  canvas  and  then  hang  it  in  a 
room  in  his  own  house  where  it  will  be  seen  by  few  save 
himself,  that  man  I  should  consider  demented.  So  with 
jewels " 

"Ah!    What  of  them?" 

"  Jewels  have  a  market  value,  and  a  place  in  the  world. 
But  when  a  man  goes  about  buying  up  every  magnificent 
specimen  that  can  be  found,  and  then  locks  his  treasures 
up  in  a  safe,  he  is  simply  a  crazy  man  pure  and  simple." 

"  What  has  all  this  to  do  with  the  case  in  hand  ?  " 

"  Everything.  My  friend  is  a  crank  on  the  subject  of 
jewels.  Sensible,  and  entertaining  on  any  other  topic,  if 


100  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

you  mention  the  name  of  any  kind  of  jewel,  he  is  off  in  a 
minute,  giving  a  long  history  of  this  or  that  celebrated 
stone.  His  especial  craze  in  this  connection,  is  to  relate 
the  crimes  that  have  surrounded  every  stone  of  any  great 
price.  He  has  made  my  blood  curdle  at  his  ghastly  tales 
of  cruel  murder,  committed  to  gain  possession  of  diamonds 
and  rubies." 

"  Then  your  conclusion  is,  that  by  filling  his  mind  with 
such  thoughts  he  may  have  accustomed  himself  to  the 
idea  of  crime  in  connection  with  jewels?" 

"  Exactly.  The  worst  of  it  is,  that  we  may  become 
habituated  to  anything.  For  instance,  all  ordinary  men 
are  abashed  in  the  presence  of  the  dead.  No  matter  how 
strong-minded  a  man  may  be,  or  how  much  he  may  scoff 
at  the  idea  of  ghosts  and  the  like,  he  will  prefer  company  if 
he  must  sit  up  with  a  corpse.  More  than  that,  the  slightest 
sound  in  the  room,  as  the  moving  of  the  ice  in  the  ice 
box,  will  cause  a  shiver  to  pass  through  him.  Yet  physi- 
cians who  study  frequently  in  the  dissecting-room,  come 
to  have  that  contempt  of  a  dead  body  that  a  butcher  has 
for  the  meat  which  he  sells." 

"  Your  argument  is  not  bad,  Mr.  Randolph.  It  is  not 
impossible  that  your  friend  might  be  generous  and  gentle, 
and  yet  with  a  mania  for  the  possession  of  jewels,  and 
with  the  knowledge  of  all  the  crimes  that  have  been  com- 
mitted to  gain  them,  the  temptation  to  kill  or  steal  would 
perhaps  become  over-powering,  where  his  passion  sees  an 
opportunity  to  be  satisfied.  It  is  an  odd  world." 

"  Do  you  think,  that  in  a  case  of  that  kind,  the  man 


A  PIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  107 

would  be  excusable  on  the  plea  of  mania  ?  Legally  I 
mean  ? " 

"  Well  no,  I  do  not !  Psychologically  I  admit  that  you 
may  be  correct,  and  I  can  sympathize  with  a  man  who 
became  a  criminal  in  such  a  way.  But  legally,  he  would 
be  culpable.  At  least  I  think  so.  The  question  to  be 
answered  is,  did  your  friend  steal  those  jewels?  You 
slept  with  him  that  night,  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think.  He  could  not  have  left 
the  berth  without  climbing  over  me,  and  though  I  sleep 
soundly,  that  ought  to  have  awakened  me.  Then  be- 
sides, if  he  did  get  out  and  take  the  things,  where  could 
he  have  hidden  them,  and  how  did  they  get  to  New 
Haven  ?  By  the  way,  I  suppose  you  have  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  man  who  left  the  satchel  at  the  hotel  ?  Does 
it  tally  with  that  of  my  friend  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say.  It  is  rather  vague.  The  clerk  says  the 
man  was  of  medium  size,  with  red  hair  and  beard,  whilst 
the  porter  who  saw  him  also,  is  equally  positive  that  he 
had  black  hair  and  no  beard.  The  last  fits  Mr.  Mitchel 
better  than  the  first,  but  it  is  a  description  which  would 
do  as  well  for  a  thousand  men  found  in  a  walk  along 
Broadway." 

"  I  almost  think  that  after  all  the  thief  is  some  one 
else." 

"  Let  us  hope  so,  Mr.  Randolph.  I  will  say  this  much, 
if  there  is  any  comfort  in  it  for  you.  At  present  there  is 
not  enough  evidence  against  him  to  warrant  his  arrest." 

The  detective  said  this  with  a  purpose.    By  relieving 


Io8  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

this  man's  mind,  he  hoped  to  make  him  more  communi« 
cative.  After  a  pause  he  asked: 

"  You  have  known  Mr.  Mitchel  for  a  number  of  years, 
I  believe?" 

"  No,  not  more  than  &.  year  and  a  half.  He  has  not 
been  in  New  York  two  years." 

'*  Oh  !     I  see.     A  Boston  man  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  he  came  from  New  Orleans." 

A  curious  sensation  passed  over  Mr.  Barnes.  There  is 
a  superstitious  belief,  much  esteemed  by  many,  that  a 
shudder  or  chill  of  this  character  means  that  some  one  is 
walking  over  the  spot  where  the  person  affected  is  to  be 
buried.  Therefore  an  uncanny  thought  accompanies  it. 
With  Mr.  Barnes  it  is  different.  He  is  free  from  all  such 
notions,  yet  insensibly  he  is  moved  when  this  occurs  to 
him,  because  it  has  so  often  happened  that  at  the  time 
he  just  hit  upon  a  clew.  Therefore  he  stopped  to  con- 
sider. All  that  Mr.  Randolph  had  said  was  that  Mr. 
Mitchel,  he  thought,  had  come  from  New  Orleans.  In  a 
moment  it  flashed  across  Mr.  Barnes's  mind  that  the 
dead  woman  had  told  him  that  she  had  lived  in  New 
Orleans.  Was  there  any  significance  in  this  fact  ?  Did 
the  man  and  the  woman  know  each  other  in  the 
southern  city  ? 

"  How  do  you  know  that  he  is  a  Southerner  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Barnes. 

u  Oh !  That  was  easily  discovered  by  his  accent," 
replied  Mr.  Randolph.  "  Besides  he  claims  to  be  from  tha 
South,  though  I  think  he  is  rather  inclined  not  to  speak 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  109 

of  his  home.  I  have  an  indistinct  recollection  of  his 
telling  me  once  that  he  was  born  in  New  Orleans  and 
that  he  had  some  painful  recollection  of  the  place.  That 
is  the  only  time  that  he  ever  alluded  to  it,  however." 

*'  I  would  like  to  ask  you  a  question  about  another  man, 
Mr.  Randolph.  I  wonder  whether  you  have  met  him. 
His  name  is  Thauret  ?  " 

"  Alphonse  Thauret  ?  Yes  I  know  him,  and  I  do  not 
like  him." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  don't  exactly  know.  Perhaps  it  is  only  a  prejudice. 
Still  we  are  apt  to  form  quick  estimates  of  men,  and  I 
have  distrusted  this  man  from  the  first  instant  that  I 
met  him." 

"  Distrusted  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  may  be  entirely  wrong,  and  perhaps  I  should 
not  tell  you  the  story,  but  I  will  do  so.  It  was  at  one  of 
my  clubs  about  two  weeks  ago.  Some  gentlemen  were 
playing  whist,  and  this  Thauret  was  of  the  number. 
Others  were  looking  on.  The  stakes  were  small,  still 
there  was  money  up.  Thauret  and  his  partner  seemed 
to  have  a  great  deal  of  luck.  Ordinarily  of  course,  two 
packs  are  used,  but  for  some  reason  there  was  but  one 
that  night,  so  that  the  bottom  card  would  be  the  trump. 
Now  it  is  pretty  well  known,  that  as  the  cards  run  in 
whist,  each  trick  containing  four  of  a  suit  mainly,  it  is  a 
mathematical  certainty  that  if  the  pack  is  shuffled  twice 
only,  and  the  dealer  is  skilful  enough  to  handle  the  pack 
so  that  the  two  halves  split  each  other  exactly  both 


110  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

times,  the  result  will  be  that  the  majority  of  trumps  will 
go  to  himself  and  partner.  Cutting  does  not  alter  this 
fact  at  all.  Now  what  I  observed  was,  that  Thauret 
dealt  in  that  way  every  time.  He  and  his  partner  won 
about  two  hundred  dollars  during  the  evening.  I  think 
he  cheated." 

"Who  was  his  partner?** 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  Was  Mr.  Mitchel  present  that  night  ?  ** 

"Yes,  and  agreed  with  me  that  the  man  is  a  card 
sharp.  Yet  of  course  we  may  be  doing  him  an  injustice. 
After  all,  we  only  know  that  he  shuffled  his  cards  twice, 
and  played  in  good  luck.  I  have  since  seem  him  lose 
at  the  same  game." 

"  Well,  I  am  much  indebted  to  you,  Mr.  Randolph,  for 
the  information  which  you  have  given  me.  I  will  say 
that  if  I  can  prove  that  your  friend  had  no  hand  in  this 
affair  I  shall  be  most  happy." 

The  detective  arose  and  Mr.  Randolph  accepted  the 
action  as  a  hint  that  he  was  dismissed.  After  his  depart- 
ure Mr.  Barnes  sat  down  again.  In  his  mind  he  won- 
dered whether  this  partner  in  the  card  game  might  have 
been  the  accomplice  of  Thauret  in  the  jewel  robbery, 
and  whether  he  was  the  man  who  left  the  jewels  in  the 
hotel  at  New  Haven.  Why  he  should  have  done  so  how- 
ever, was  a  mystery. 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  Barnes  left  the  building,  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  Third  Avenue,  where  he  took 
the  elevated  road,  getting  out  at  Seventy-sixth  Street 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  m 

Going  eastward  a  few  houses  he  rang  the  bell  of  one, 
and  was  shown  into  a  modestly-furnished  parlor.  A  few 
minutes  later  a  comely  young  woman  of  about  twenty- 
four  or  five  entered.  The  two  talked  together  in  low 
tones  for  some  time,  and  then  the  girl  left  the  room  re- 
turning in  street  attire.  Together  they  left  the  house. 

Four  days  later,  Mr.  Barnes  received  a  note  which 
simply  said,  "  Come  up."  He  seemed  to  understand  it, 
however,  and  was  quickly  on  his  way  to  the  house  on 
Seventy-sixth  Street.  Once  more  the  girl  joined  him  in 
the  parlor. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "  have  you  succeeded  ?  " 
"  Why,  of  course,"  replied  the  girl.     "  You  never  kne\» 
me  to  make  a  failure,  did  you  ?    You  don't  class  me  with 
Wilson,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  about  Wilson  ;  tell  me  your  story.** 

"  Very  good.     Don't  be  impatient.     You  know  me,  I 

take  my  own  way  of  doing  things.     Well,  you  left  me  in 

Madison  Square  Park.     I  sat  on  a  bench  and  watched 

Wilson.     Two  hours  later  a  man  came  out  of  the  hotel 

and  Wilson  followed  him.     It  made  me  laugh  to  see  the 

gawk  skulking  along  in  the  rear.     He  's  no  artist.     Why, 

any  booby  could  tell  in  a  minute  that  he  was  on  the  trail." 

"  I  told  you  to  omit  remarks  about  Wilson." 

"  I  know,  but  I  choose  to  tell  you  about  him,  because  I 

make  you  appreciate  me  more.     So  there  he  was  chasing 

after  your  man  Mitchel.     You  see  I  have  found  out  his 

name.    You  didn't  tell  me,  but  that  could  not  trouble  me 

long,  you  know.  It  was  real  fun.  One  minute  Wilson  would 


112  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

be  actually  running  to  keep  up,  and  all  of  a  sudden  Mitchel 
would  stop  so  short,  that  Wilson  would  almost  bump  into 
him.  Of  course  he  knows  Wilson  by  this  time,  and  just 
has  fun  with  him.  I  wanted  to  get  one  good  square  look 
at  him  myself.  I  jumped  on  a  car  and  reached  Third 
Avenue  ahead  of  them.  I  ran  upstairs  to  the  platform  of 
the  elevated  station,  and  hid  in  the  waiting-room.  Soon 
up  came  Mitchel,  and  away  he  goes  to  the  end  of  the 
platform.  Wilson  stopped  in  the  middle  and  tried  to 
look  natural,  which  of  course  he  did  n't.  When  the  train 
came  along,  I  got  aboard  and  walked  through  till  I  found 
my  man  and  down  I  sat  right  opposite  to  him.  I  just 
studied  his  face,  you  bet." 

"  Yes,  Miss,  and  he  studied  yours.  You  are  a  goose, 
and  you  disobeyed  orders.  I  told  you  not  to  let  that 
keen  devil  see  you  at  all." 

"  That  's  all  right.  It  came  out  straight  enough.  At 
Forty-second  Street  he  got  out,  and  so  did  Wilson,  and  so 
didn't  I." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  then  he  might  have  suspected  me.  No,  sir  ; 
I  rode  on  up  to  Forty-seventh  Street,  crossed  over,  took 
a  train  down,  and  was  waiting  in  the  station  when 
Mitchel  came  along  the  second  time.  This  time  he  was 
alone,  evidently  having  eluded  Wilson  at  Thirty-fourth 
Street.  He  took  the  down  train.  So  did  I,  this  time 
keeping  out  of  sight.  He  went  straight  to  his  lay, 
and  I  after  him.  It  is  a  house  in  Irving  Place.  Here  is 
the  number."  She  handed  a  card  to  Mr.  Barnes. 


A  FIGHT  WITH  CONSCIENCE.  113 

"You  have  done  well,"  said  he,  taking  it,  "but  why 
did  you  not  report  to  me  at  once  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  through  yet.  When  I  take  up  a  case  I  go 
to  the  end  of  it.  Do  you  suppose  I  would  track  that 
man,  and  then  let  you  turn  Wilson  on  him  again  ?  Not 
much.  Next  day  I  called  at  the  house  and  rang  the  bell. 
A  servant  girl  opened  the  door.  I  asked  to  see  the 
mistress.  She  asked  what  I  wanted,  and  I  told  her  that 
I  had  been  sent  for  to  take  a  situation.  She  looked  sur- 
prised, because  of  course  she  had  not  been  notified  that 
she  was  to  be  discharged.  I  quickly  went  on  to  say  that 
I  would  not  like  to  make  her  lose  her  place,  and  asked 
what  sort  of  people  they  were  who  lived  in  the  house.  I 
got  her  talking  and  soon  found  out  that  it  is  a  kind  of 
private  boarding-school,  and  that  there  is  a  child  there,  a 
girl  of  fourteen  named  Rose  Mitchel,  and  that  your  man 
is  her  father.  How  does  that  strike  you  ?  " 

"  My  girl,  you  are  a  genius.  But  still  you  knew 
this  the  day  before  yesterday.  Why  did  you  not 
report  ?  " 

"  I  went  down  again  yesterday  to  try  to  learn  more.  I 
sat  out  in  the  park  and  watched  the  young  girls  when 
they  came  out  for  an  airing.  I  could  not  find  a  chance 
to  speak  to  the  girl,  but  I  found  out  which  is  she  by 
hearing  the  others  call  her  name.  I  had  my  camera 
along,  and  I  took  her  portrait  for  you.  What  do  you  say 
now.  Have  I  wasted  my  time  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  You  are  clever,  but  you  will  never  be 
great,  because  you  are  too  conceited.  However  I  have 


114  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRTM1. 

nothing   tut   praise    for  you   this  time.    Get    me  the 
picture." 

The  girl  went  upstairs  and  returned  with  a  small, 
rather  dim  photograph  of  a  young,  pretty  girl,  and  gave 
it  to  Mr.  Barnes.  About  half  an  hour  later  he  left  the 
house. 


LUCETTE. 

Two  days  after  the  events  just  related,  Emily  Remsen's 
maid  announced  that  she  had  just  received  news  that  her 
mother  was  very  ill,  and  that  she  had  been  notified  to  go 
to  her  at  once.  Her  mother,  she  said,  lived  in  Elizabeth, 
New  Jersey.  She  wished  to  go  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment,  and  begged  that  her  cousin,  Lucette,  should  be 
allowed  to  attend  to  her  duties  till  her  return,  which  she 
hoped  would  be  in  a  very  few  days.  Asked  if  her  cousin 
was  competent,  she  said  yes,  and  especially  apt  at 
arranging  the  hair,  having  served  an  apprenticeship  with 
a  French  hair-dresser.  Indeed  the  girl's  real  name  was 
Lucy,  but  she  had  changed  it  to  Lucette,  to  pretend  that 
being  French  she  was  necessarily  a  good  maid. 

In  Miss  Remsen's  mind  this  changing  of  her  name  was 
nothing  in  the  girl's  favor  ;  but  as  her  own  maid  was  thus 
suddenly  taken  from  her,  and  as  this  other  was  offered  at 
once,  she  agreed  to  the  proposal. 

Lucette  arrived  during  the  afternoon,  and  Miss  Remsen 
was  delighted  with  her.  Expecting  a  talkative,  intrusive 
person,  assuming  Frenchified  mannerisms,  she  was  sur- 
prised to  find  a  quiet  unpretentious  creature,  who  im- 
mediately showed  herself  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the 


Il6  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

duties  required  of  her.  Within  the  first  twenty-four  hours 
she  found  herself  so  much  better  served  than  by  her 
absent  maid,  that  she  almost  wished  that  the  mother  would 
require  her  for  a  long  time.  Dora,  too,  was  charmed 
with  Lucette. 

"  Queen,"  said  she  the  next  afternoon,  "what  do  you 
think  of  your  new  maid  ?  " 

"  Who  ?— Lucette  ?  "  answered  the  sister.  "  O  I  think 
she  does  very  well." 

"  Does  very  well  ?  Why,  Queen,  she  is  a  jewel.  If  you 
do  not  appreciate  her,  I  wish  you  would  bequeath  her 
to  me  when  Sarah  returns." 

"  O  ho !  So  my  young  miss  wants  a  maid  to  herself, 
does  she  ? " 

"  O  no  !  Not  especially,  but  I  want  to  keep  Lucette  in 
the  family.  She  is  a  treasure.  Dressing  the  hair  is  not 
her  only  accomplishment  either,  though  I  never  saw  yours 
look  more  beautiful.  She  has  just  arranged  the  table  for 
our  *  afternoon  tea,'  and  I  never  saw  anything  like  it.  It 
is  just  wonderful  what  that  girl  can  do  with  a  napkin  in 
the  way  of  decoration." 

"O  yes,"  said  Emily,  "Lucette  is  clever;  but  don't 
let  her  know  that  we  think  so.  It  might  make  her  less 
valuable.  Now  tell  me,  Dora  dear,  who  is  coming  this 
afternoon?" 

"  Oh  !    The  usual  crush  I  suppose." 

"  Including  Mr.  Randolph  ?  " 

"Queen,  there  is  a  mystery  about  him.  Let  me  tell 
you.  In  the  first  place,  he  has  not  been  here  for  over  a 


LUCETTB.  II) 

week,  and  then  yesterday  I  saw  him  coming  down  Fifth 
Avenue,  and,  would  you  believe  it  ?  just  as  I  was  about 
to  bow  to  him,  he  turned  down  a  side  street." 

"  He  did  not  see  you,  my  dear,  or  he  surely  would  have 
spoken.  He  would  have  been  too  glad." 

"  Well,  if  he  did  not  see  me,  he  must  have  suddenly 
contracted  near-sightedness  ;  that  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

Shortly  after,  company  began  to  arrive,  and  very  soon 
the  rooms  were  filled  by  a  crowd  which  is  aptly  described 
by  the  term  used  by  Dora.  One  goes  to  these  affairs 
partly  from  duty  and  partly  from  habit.  One  leaves 
mainly  from  the  instinctive  sense  of  self-preservation 
inherent  in  all. 

Dora  was  besieged  by  a  number  of  admirers,  and  took 
pleasure  in  avoiding  Mr.  Randolph,  who  was  assiduous  in 
his  attentions.  He  seemed  anxious  to  get  her  off  into  the 
seclusion  of  a  corner,  a  scheme  which  the  young  lady 
frustrated  without  appearing  to  do  so. 

Mr.  Thauret  was  also  present,  though  he  did  not  remain 
very  long.  He  chatted  a  short  time  with  Emily  on  con- 
ventional subjects,  and  then  worked  his  way  to  the  side 
of  Dora,  where  he  lingered  longer.  He  said  several 
pretty  things  to  her,  such  as  she  had  heard  already  in 
different  forms  from  other  men,  but  with  just  a  tone, 
which  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  spoke  from  his  heart 
rather  than  from  the  mere  passing  fancy  of  pleasing.  It 
was  very  skilfully  done.  There  was  so  little  of  it,  that  no 
one,  certainly  not  an  inexperienced  girl  like  Dora,  could 
suspect  that  it  was  all  studied.  Yet  after  he  had  gone, 


Il8  AN   ARTIST   IN  CRIME. 

and  the  company  was  thinning  out,  Mr.  Randolph  found 
his  long-sought  opportunity,  and  sat  down  for  a  tete-a-tete 
with  Dora.  He  began  at  once. 

"  Miss  Dora,  why  do  you  allow  a  cad  like  that  French- 
man to  make  love  to  you  ?  " 

"  Are  you  alluding  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Thauret  ?  "  She 
accentuated  the  word  "  friend  "  merely  to  exasperate  Mr. 
Randolph,  and  succeeded  admirably. 

"  He  is  not  your  friend.  In  my  opinion,  he  is  nobody's 
friend  but  his  own." 

"  That  has  been  said  of  so  many,  that  it  is  no  new  idea." 

"  But  do  be  serious,  Miss  Dora.  You  must  not  allow 
this  fellow  to  worm  his  way  into  your  circle,  and 
more  than  all,  you  must  not  allow  him  to  make  love  to 
you." 

"  You  surprise  me,  Mr.  Randolph.  I  had  no  idea  that 
Mr.  Thauret  was  making  love  to  me.  I  could  relate 
everything  that  he  said,  and  it  would  scarcely  bear  out  your 
assumption." 

"  That  is  only  his  cunning.  He  is  too  shrewd  to  speak 
plainly,  so  soon " ;  and  yet  this  young  philosopher  was 
not  wise  enough  to  see  that  he  was  damaging  his  own 
cause  by  putting  ideas  into  the  girl's  mind  which  had  not 
yet  entered  there. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Randolph,  you  are  really  becoming  amus- 
ing. You  are  like  Don  Quixote  fighting  windmills.  You 
imagine  a  condition,  and  then  give  me  a  warning.  It  is 
entirely  unnecessary,  I  assure  you.  Mr.  Thaurct  was  not 
acting  in  any  such  way  as  you  impute  to  him." 


LUCETTE.  119 

M  You  are  not  angry  with  me,  I  hope.  You  know  what 
prompted  me  to  speak  ?  " 

"  No,  I  fear  I  am  not  so  clever  as  you  at  reading  other 
people's  motives." 

"  But  surely  you  must  have  guessed  that " 

"  Guessed  what  ? "  Dora  looked  at  him  so  candidly, 
that  he  was  abashed.  It  was  his  opportunity  to  declare 
himself,  and  he  might  have  done  so,  had  not  Mr.  Mitchel 
entered  the  room  at  that  moment.  Seeing  him,  Mr. 
Randolph  thought  of  the  peculiar  position  he  would  be  in 
if  his  friend  should  be  proven  to  be  a  criminal.  For  this 
reason  he  hesitated,  and  thus  lost  a  chance  which  did  not 
recur  again  for  a  very  long  time.  He  replied  in  a  jesting 
tone,  and  soon  after  left  the  house. 

The  company  had  departed.  Dora  had  gone  to 
her  own  room,  leaving  Mr.  Mitchel  and  Emily  alone 
together. 

"  Emily,  my  Queen,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  taking  one  of 
her  hands  caressingly  within  both  of  his,  as  they  sat  upon 
a  tete-a-tete  sofa,  "  I  almost  believe  that  I  am  dreaming 
when  I  think  that  you  love  me." 

"  Why  so,  Roy  ? " 

"  Listen,  little  woman.  I  am  in  an  odd  mood  to-night, 
and  I  wish  very  much  to  talk  to  you.  May  I  ? " 

For  answer  she  touched  him  lightly,  lovingly,  on  the  face 
with  her  disengaged  hand,  and  bowed  assent. 

"  Then  listen  while  I  make  my  confession.  I  am  dif- 
ferent from  other  men,  much  as  I  count  you  different 
from  all  women.  I  have  met  many,  in  all  the  capitals  of 


IfO  AN   ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

Europe,  and  here  in  my  own  country.  I  have  never  been 
affected  by  any,  as  I  was  by  you.  In  the  first  instant  of 
meeting  you,  I  had  chosen  you  for  my  wife.  When  I 
asked  for  you,  I  had  not  the  least  idea  that  you  would 
refuse,  until  having  spoken,  I  saw  the  bold  audacity  of 
my  words,  and  for  half  an  instant  the  idea  lived  with  me 
that  I  was  too  presumptuous." 

"You  were  not,  my  Roy.  Like  you  I  have  passed 
lovers  by,  as  unaffected  as  by  the  ocean  breezes.  When 
I  met  you,  I  said  to  myself  :  '  This  is  my  master.' " 

"  God  bless  you,  Emily.  Let  me  continue.  I  have 
chosen  you  to  be  my  wife.  As  heaven  is  my  witness,  I 
shall  never  deceive  you  in  aught.  But, — and  this  is  the 
hard  test  which  your  love  must  endure  — I  may  be  com- 
pelled at  times  to  keep  you  in  ignorance  of  some  things. 
Do  you  think  that  your  love  is  great  enough  to  believe 
that  when  I  do  so  it  is  from  love  of  you,  that  I  keep  a 
secret  from  you  ?  " 

"  Roy,  perhaps  this  is  conceit,  but  if  so,  still  I  say  it, 
A  weaker  love  than  mine  would  say  to  you,  *  I  trust  you, 
but  I  love  you  so  that  you  need  not  hesitate  to  share  your 
secrets  with  me.'  I  tell  you  that  I  trust  you  implicitly. 
That  I  am  content  to  hear  your  secrets  or  not,  as  your 
own  judgment  and  love  for  me  shall  decide." 

"  I  knew  that  you  would  speak  so.  Had  you  said  less 
I  should  have  been  disappointed.  I  will  tell  you  then  at 
once,  that  there  is  a  secret  in  my  life  which  I  have  shared 
with  no  one,  and  which  I  am  not  willing  yet  to  reveal  to 
you.  Are  you  still  content  ?  " 


LUCETTB.  Ifll 

**  Do  you  doubt  it  ?  Do  you  think  that  I  would  make 
an  assertion  only  to  draw  back  from  by  boast  as  soon  as 
tried  ?  " 

"  No,  my  Queen,  but  it  is  asking  much  to  ask  a  woman 
to  marry  whilst  there  is  a  secret  which  cannot  be  told. 
Especially  when  there  are  those  who  may  believe  that 
there  is  shame  or  worse,  concealed." 

"  No  one  would  dare  to  so  misjudge  you !  " 

"  Indeed,  but  you  are  mistaken.  There  are  those  who 
do  not  count  me  as  irreproachable  as  I  may  seem  to  you. 
What  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  a  detective  watches  me  day 
and  night  ?  " 

"  Oho  ?  That  would  not  frighten  me.  You  have  explained 
all  about  your  wager.  I  suppose  Mr.  Barnes  is  keeping 
an  eye  on  you.  Is  that  it  ?  " 

"  Partly  that,  and  partly  because  he  thinks  that  I  am 
connected  with  this  murdered  woman.  To  a  certain 
extent  he  is  right." 

"  You  mean  that  you  knew  her  ?  " 

"  Yes."  Mr.  Mitchel  paused  to  see  whether  she  would 
ask  another  question  after  his  admission.  But  she  meant 
all  that  she  had  said  when  asserting  that  she  trusted  him. 
She  remained  silent.  Mr.  Mitchel  continued  :  "  Natur- 
ally Mr.  Barnes  is  desirous  of  learning  how  much  I  know. 
There  are  urgent  reasons  why  I  do  not  wish  him  to  do  so. 
You  have  it  in  your  power  to  aid  me." 

"  I  will  do  so  !  " 

"  You  have  not  heard  what  it  is  that  I  wish.** 

"I  do  not  care  what  it  is.    I  will  do  it  if  you  ask  me." 


IS2  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIMK. 

"  You  are  worthy  of  my  love."  He  drew  her  gently 
towards  him,  and  kissed  her  lightly  on  the  lips.  "  I  say 
it  not  in  egotism,  for  I  love  you  as  much  as  man  may. 
Were  you  unworthy — I  should  never  love  again." 

"  You  may  trust  me,  Roy."  Her  words  were  simple, 
but  there  was  a  passion  of  truth  contained  in  their 
utterance. 

"  I  will  tell  you  at  once,  what  I  wish.  For  it  must  be 
done  promptly.  You  must  be  ready — Who  is  that  ?  " 

Mr.  Mitchel  spoke  the  last  two  words  in  a  sharp  tone, 
rising  from  his  seat  and  taking  a  step  forward.  The  large 
room  was  but  dimly  lighted,  the  gas  having  been  lowered 
to  please  Emily  who  abhorred  well-lighted  rooms.  At 
the  further  end  some  one  was  standing,  and  had  attracted 
Mr.  Mitchel's  attention  ?  It  was  Lucette,  and  she  replied 
at  once  : 

"  Your  mother  sent  me  to  know  if  you  are  ready  for 
supper,  Miss  Emily." 

"  Say  that  we  will  be  in,  in  a  few  minutes,"  replied 
Emily,  and  Lucette  left  the  room. 

"Who  is  that  sfirl?"  asked  Mr.  Mitchel. 

Emily  explained  how  the  new  maid  had  been  engaged 
and  Mr.  Mitchel  speaking  in  a  tone  louder  than  was 
really  necessary,  said  : 

"  She  seems  to  be  a  quiet,  good  girl.  Rather  too  quiet, 
for  she  startled  me  coming  in  so  noiselessly.  Shall  we  go 
in  ?  What  I  have  to  tell  you  will  keep.  It  is  something 
I  wish  you  to  do  for  me  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

After  supper  Mr.  Mitchel  took  the  two  girls  and  their 


LUCETTE.  123 

mother  to  the  theatre,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  latter, 
who  was  always  shocked  whenever  Emily  went  unat- 
tended by  a  chaperone.  The  party  walked  going  and 
coming,  and  as  Dora  and  her  mother  were  ahead,  Mr. 
Mitchel  had  ample  opportunity  to  explain  to  his  fiancic 
the  favor  which  he  wished  her  to  do  for  him.  When 
leaving  the  house  that  night  he  said  : 

"  You  will  not  see  me  again  for  a  couple  of  days.  Keep 
well  till  then." 

Lucette,  who  had  overheard  this  remark,  was,  there- 
fore, rather  astonished  to  see  Mr.  Mitchel  walk  in  the 
next  morning  as  early  as  ten  o'clock.  She  was  still  more 
surprised  to  have  her  mistress  announce  that  she  was 
going  out.  What  puzzled  her  most  of  all  was  that  Emily 
went  out  alone,  leaving  Mr.  Mitchel  in  the  parlor.  In 
fact  this  seemed  to  give  her  so  much  food  for  reflection, 
that  as  though  struck  by  the  conclusions  arrived  at,  she 
herself  prepared  to  go  out.  As  she  was  passing  along 
the  hall,  however,  the  parlor  door  opened  and  Mr. 
Mitchel  confronted  her. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Lucette  ?  " 

"  I  have  an  errand  to  do,  sir,"  she  replied  with  a  slight 
tremor. 

"  Come  into  the  parlor,  first.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you." 
She  felt  compelled  to  obey,  and  walked  into  the  room, 
Mr.  Mitchel  opening  the  door  and  waiting  for  her  to 
pass  through.  He  then  followed,  after  closing  the  door 
behind  him,  locking  it  and  taking  the  key  from  the  lock. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that  ?  "  asked  Lucette  angrily. 


124  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

"  You  forget  yourself,  Lucette.  You  are  a  servant,  and 
good  servants  such  as  you  have  proven  that  you  know 
how  to  be,  never  ask  questions.  However,  I  will  answer 
you.  I  locked  the  door  because  I  do  not  wish  you  to 
get  out  of  this  room." 

"  I  won't  be  locked  in  here  with  you.  I  am  a  respect- 
able girl." 

"  No  one  doubts  it.  You  need  not  get  excited,  I  am 
not  going  to  hurt  you  in  any  way." 

"  Then  why  have  you  brought  me  in  here  ? " 

"  Simply  to  keep  you  here  till — well,  say  till  twelve 
o'clock.  That  is  about  two  hours.  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  mind.  I  won't  be  kept  in  here  alone  with 
you  for  two  hours." 

"  You  amuse  me.     How  will  you  prevent  it  ?  " 

Lucette  bit  her  lip,  but  said  nothing.  She  saw  that  there 
was  no  help  for  her.  She  might  scream,  of  course,  but  Mrs. 
Remsen  and  Dora  had  gone  out  before  Emily.  She  and 
Mr.  Mitchel  were  alone  in  the  apartment.  She  might  attract 
the  attention  of  the  janitor,  or  of  people  in  the  street.  As 
this  idea  occurred  to  her  she  glanced  toward  the  window. 
Mr.  Mitchel  divined  her  thoughts  in  a  moment. 

"  Don't  try  screaming,  Lucette,"  said  he,  "  for  if  you  do, 
I  will  be  compelled  to  gag  you.  You  will  find  that  very 
uncomfortable  for  two  hours." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  why  you  wish  to  keep  me  here  ?  " 

"  I  thought  I  did  tell  you.  The  fact  is,  I  do  not  wish 
you  to  do  that  little  errand  of  yours." 

"  I  don't  understand 


LUCETTE.  125 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  You  are  not  such  a  fool  as  all  that. 
Now,  my  girl,  you  may  as  well  bow  to  the  inevitable. 
Make  yourself  comfortable  till  twelve.  Read  the  paper, 
if  you  wish.  There  is  an  interesting  account  of  the  mur- 
der case.  The  woman,  you  know,  who  was  killed  in  the 
flat  upstairs.  Have  you  followed  it  ? " 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  she  replied,  snappishly. 

"  That  is  strange.  Do  you  know,  I  took  you  to  be  just  the 
person  who  would  have  a  deep'  interest  in  that  kind 
of  thing." 

"  Well,  I  am  not." 

For  the  next  two  hours  not  a  word  passed.  Mr. 
Mitchel  sat  in  a  large  arm-chair  and  simply  watched  the 
girl  with  an  aggravating  smile  upon  his  face.  In  fact  the 
smile  was  so  aggravating,  that  after  encountering  it  a  few 
minutes,  Lucette  did  not  look  at  him  again,  but  rivetted 
her  gaze  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  At  last 
the  clock  chimed  twelve.  Instantly  the  girl  arose. 

"  May  I  go  now  ?  " 

"Yes,  Lucette,  you  may  go  now — and  do  your  little 
errand — that  is  if  it  is  not  too  late.  And  by  the  way, 
Lucette,  Miss  Remsen  asked  me  to  say  to  you  that  she 
will  not  need  your  services  after  to-day." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  discharged  ? " 

"  Not  exactly  that.  I  said  you  would  not  be  needed. 
You  see  Miss  Remsen  thinks  that  you  come  into  and  go 
out  of  rooms  with  too  little  noise.  She  is  very  nervous, 
and  it  startles  her  to  find  you  in  her  presence,  without 
having  heard  you  enter." 


126  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

"  You  are  a  devil !  "  replied  Lucette  in  a  passion, 
as  she  darted  through  the  door,  which  Mr.  Mitchel  had 
unlocked,  and  ran  down-stairs  and  out  of  the  house. 

"  I  was  right,"  thought  Mr.  Mitchel,  as  he  sat  down 
once  more. 

Lucette  hurried  across  to  Broadway  and  went  into  the 
district  telegraph  office  at  the  corner.  Hastily  scribbling 
a  few  lines  on  a  blank,  she  asked  for  a  boy,  and  gave  him 
a  coin  with  the  instruction  to  "hurry."  She  then  went 
down  to  Madison  Square  and  waited  there — I  was  about 
to  write,  patiently — but  really  the  word  would  not  apply. 
She  sat  on  a  bench.  Jumped  up  in  less  than  five  minutes, 
walked  about  for  awhile,  and  then  sat  down  again,  repeat- 
ing this  over  and  over,  till  it  was  plain  that  she  was  in  a 
bad  humor, — a  very  bad  humor. 

At  last  she  saw  a  man  approaching  her,  and  hurried  to 
meet  him.  It  was  Mr.  Barnes.  He,  too,  looked  excited. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  Why  are  you  here  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  I  am  discharged  !  " 

"Discharged?    Why?" 

"  I  don't  know  why,  but  that  devil  Mitchel  is  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  He  locked  me  up  for  two  hours  this  morn- 
ing, and  then  told  me  Miss  Remsen  would  not  need  me 
any  further.  I  felt  like  scratching  his  eyes  out."  -She 
then  told  the  story  to  the  detective,  winding  up  with, 
"  From  what  I  did  catch  of  their  conversation  last  night 
I  think  he  has  made  a  confidant  of  his  sweetheart.  He 
asked  her  to  help  him  and  just  as  he  was  about  to  tell  her 


LUCETTE.  137 

what  to  do,  somehow  he  saw  me  and  closed  up  like  a 
clam.  I  think  now  it  had  something  to  do  with  the 
child." 

"  By  heaven,  you  are  right.  I  see  it  all.  I  had  just 
returned  from  that  house,  when  I  got  your  note  and  came 
up  here.  I  went  to  the  school  this  morning  pretending 
that  I  wished  to  place  a  child  there.  Then,  after  a  while, 
I  asked  if  my  friend  Mr.  Mitchel's  daughter,  Rose,  was 
not  at  the  school.  '  Yes/  replied  the  woman  in  charge, 
'but  she  has  just  left  us.'  'Left  you,' said  I, 'when  ?' 
1  About  ten  minutes  ago.  Her  mother  called  for  her  in 
a  carriage  and  took  her  away.'  Don't  you  see,  whilst 
you  were  locked  in  that  room,  Miss  Remsen  went  down 
and  removed  the  child." 

"But  Miss  Remsen  is  not  her  mother  ?  " 

"  No,  stupid.  Have  n't  you  any  sense  left  at  all  ?  Are 
you  going  to  be  a  bungler  all  your  life  ?  This  comes  of 
your  disobedience.  You  let  Mitchel  see  you  in  the 
elevated  train,  and  now  you  find  out  how  smart  you  were." 

"  Nonsense,  he  never  recognized  me." 

"  He  did.  I  was  a  fool  to  trust  such  an  important 
matter  to  a  woman." 

"  Oh  !  were  you  ?  Well  that  woman  is  not  such  a  fool 
as  you  think.  I  have  that  button  back." 

"Ah  !  Good  !  How  did  you  manage  it  ? " 

"  They  all  went  to  the  theatre  last  night,  and  I  just 
hunted  through  Miss  Remsen's  things  till  I  found  it,  in 
one  of  her  jewel-cases.  Here  it  is."  Saying  which,  she 
handed  to  the  detective  the  cameo  button  which  he  had 


128  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

found  in  the  room  where  the  murder  had  been  committed. 
He  saw  that  it  was  the  same,  and  was  somewhat  comforted 
to  have  it  back. 

"  Has  Mr.  Mitchel  made  Miss  Remsen  any  present 
lately  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  he  gave  her  a  magnificent  ruby  last  night.  Miss 
Remsen  told  me  that  it  is  worth  a  fortune,  and  it  looks  it." 

"  How  was  it  set  ?  " 

"  It  is  made  into  a  pin  to  be  worn  in  the  hair." 

"  Well,  I  have  no  further  use  for  you  at  present.  Go 
home,  and  be  sure  you  keep  a  still  tongue  in  your  head 
You  have  done  enough  mischief  already." 

"  Have  n't  I  done  any  good  ?  I  think  you  are  very 
mean." 

"  Yes,  you  have  done  some  good.  But  you  will  find 
that  in  this  world  one  failure  counts  against  three 
successes.  Remember  that" 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   DIARY    OF    A    DETECTIVE. 

IT  was  the  morning  of  the  New  Year.  Mr.  Barnes  was 
seated  in  an  arm-chair  by  his  own  fireside  at  his  cosy 
home  on  Staten  Island.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  diary, 
whose  pages  he  was  studying  intently.  Before  peeping 
over  his  shoulder  to  read  with  him,  it  will  be  best  to  give 
a  slight  insight  into  the  state  of  mind  which  led  him  to 
take  up  the  book  on  this  particular  day. 

After  the  clever  manner  in  which  he  had  discovered  that 
a  young  girl  existed,  whose  name  was  Rose  Mitchel,  and 
who  was  supposed  to  be  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Robert 
Leroy  Mitchel,  and  after  the  equally  clever  trick  by  which 
the  girl  was  removed  beyond  his  ken,  Mr.  Barnes  had 
come  to  one  conclusion.  This  was,  that  it  was  necessary 
to  keep  such  a  strict  watch  upon  Mr.  Mitchel,  that  if  he 
had  not  already  committed  the  crime,  about  which  he 
had  wagered,  he  should  not  be  able  to  do  so  and  avoid 
detection.  For  Mr.  Barnes  began  to  have  some  feeling 
in  the  matter  beyond  the  mere  fulfilment  of  duty.  He 
was  being  thwarted  by  this  man  at  every  turn,  and  this 
made  him  doubly  determined  not  to  allow  him  to  win 
that  bet.  Therefore  he  had  removed  Wilson  from  the 
post  of  watching  Mr.  Mitchel,  and  had  replaced  him  by  two 

»  I2Q 


IJO  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

3ien  who  were  thoroughly  skilful.  Wilson  and  another 
he  set  to  spy  upon  the  movements  of  Miss  Remsen,  for 
he  hoped  to  find  the  child  through  her. 

Being  the  first  of  January,  and  therefore  the  last  day 
upon  which  Mr.  Mitchel  could  commit  his  crime,  within 
the  conditions  imposed,  always  supposing  that  he  had  not 
already  done  so,  Mr.  Barnes  wished  once  more  to  go  over 
the  reports  sent  to  him  by  his  various  spies,  in  order  that 
he  might  be  assured  that  no  mistakes  had  been  made. 

He  began  to  read  at : 

"  Dec.  15.  Mitchel  left  his  hotel  early,  and  went  over 
to  Hoffman  House.  Remained  there  two  hours,  and 
came  out  accompanied  by  Thauret.  They  walked  up  to 
the  White  Elephant,  and  spent  the  morning  playing  bil- 
liards. Lunched  together  at  Delmonico  cafe,  and  sepa- 
rated at  two  o'clock.  Mitchel  then  went  to  his  livery 
stable  and  obtained  a  horse  and  light  wagon.  They  are 
his  property.  Drove  slowly  along  Madison  Avenue,  and 
stopped  at  Thirtieth  Street  apartment-house.  S . 

"  No  sign  of  Miss  Remsen  all  morning.  She  has  a  new 
maid.  Her  girl  Sarah  returned  yesterday,  but  her  mis- 
tress refused  to  take  her  back.  Evidently  she  recognizes 
that  the  girl  was  bribed  to  go  into  the  country  and 
to  recommend  Lucette  as  her  cousin.  About  2:30, 
Mitchel  drove  up  in  his  light  wagon.  According  to 
orders,  I  prepared  to  follow  them,  that  they  might  not 
visit  the  child,  eluding  us  by  driving.  Obtained  a  cab, 
and  was  waiting  in  it  as  the  two  turned  into  Madison 
Avenue  and  started  up-town.  Easily  kept  them  in  sight, 


THE    DIARY    OF    A    DETECTIVE.  l$I 

without  exciting  suspicion,  but  learned  nothing  as  they 
simply  drove  up  through  the  Park,  along  St.  Nicholas 
Avenue  and  home  again  down  the  Boulevard  and  River- 
side drive.  He  remained  at  the  Remsens'  till  ten  o'clock. 
Then  went  straight  to  his  hotel.  W . 

"Dec.  1 6.  Mitchel  spent  his  morning  at  his  club. 
Afternoon  in  his  hotel.  Evening  at  Miss  Remsen's.  S . 

"  Miss  Remsen  and  her  sister  spent  the  morning  shop- 
ping. The  afternoon  paying  calls.  The  evening  at 
home.  W . 

"  Dec.  17.  Mitchel's  actions  same  as  yesterday,  except 
that  Thauret  called  on  him  at  his  hotel  during  the  after- 
noon and  was  with  him  an  hour.  S . 

"  Miss  Remsen,  her  sister,  and  two  other  young  ladies 
went  to  Brooklyn  in  the  afternoon,  but  simply  visited  the 
large  stores  there.  At  home  in  the  evening.  W . 

"  Dec.  1 8.  Mitchel  and  Thauret  together  in  the  morning. 
Mitchel  and  Miss  Remsen  out  walking  in  afternoon. 
Mitchel  and  Thauret  at  club  in  the  evening.  I  bribed 
doorman  and  succeeded  in  getting  in  disguised  as  one  of 
the  servants.  Mitchel  and  Thauret  played  whist,  play- 
ing as  partners.  They  lost  about  a  hundred  dollars. 
Went  home  together.  S . 

"  Miss  Remsen  indoors  all  morning.  Out  on  Fifth 
Avenue  with  Mitchel  in  the  afternoon.  During  their 
absence  Thauret  called.  W . 

"  Dec.  19.  Mitchel  and  Thauret  played  poker  all  after- 
noon in  one  of  the  rooms  of  their  club.  Both  lost.  There 
were  four  others  in  the  game.  One  of  these  won  heavily. 


132  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

I  have  discovered  that  this  is  undoubtedly  the  man  who 
was  Thauret's  whist  partner  on  the  night  when  Randolph 
thought  that  he  detected  them  cheating.  He  also  answers 
the  description  of  the  man  who  left  the  jewels  at  hotel 
in  New  Haven.  His  name  is  Adrian  Fisher.  In  the 
evening  Mitchel  and  Thauret  were  in  a  box  at  the  opera 
with  the  Remsen  family.  S . 

"  The  Miss  Remsens  gave  an  afternoon  tea.  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph called  and  remained  to  dinner.  Went  to  the 
opera  with  the  ladies  in  the  evening.  W . 

"  Dec.  20.  Mitchel  in  his  hotel  all  day.  He  and  Thauret 
went  driving  in  the  afternoon.  I  followed  them  in  a  light 
wagon.  At  the  road  house  in  the  Park,  they  alighted 
and  had  a  bottle  of  wine.  Talked  together  earnestly. 
Saw  Mitchel  give  Thauret  a  roll  of  money.  In  the  even- 
ing they  played  whist  as  partners  at  the  club,  and  again 
they  lost.  S . 

"  No  sign  of  the  Miss  Remsens  till  afternoon  when  a 
young  lady  called  and  the  three  went  to  matinee  at 
Daly's.  Evening  they  spent  at  home.  W . 

"Dec.  21.  Mitchel  attended  worship  at  St.  Patrick's 
Cathedral  with  the  two  Miss  Remsens.  Afternoon  re- 
mained in  his  hotel.  Evening  at  the  Remsens.  S . 

"  Miss  Remsen  and  her  sister  at  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral 
in  the  morning.  At  home  the  rest  of  the  day.  W . 

"  According  to  instructions  I  have  made  inquiries  about 
Adrian  Fisher.  He  is  a  man  of  good  family,  but  poor. 
Belongs  to  two  fashionable  clubs.  Plays  cards  for  money 
frequently.  Is  a  good  player  and  seems  to  earn  a  living 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  DETECTIVE.  133 

off  of  his  friends.  Has  no  relatives  living,  except  a 
sister  who  is  a  cripple.  He  is  very  fond  of  her  and  treats 
her  with  great  kindness.  It  is  a  mystery  how  he  manages 
to  support  her  as  comfortably  as  he  does.  They  live 

together  in  a  small  flat  at  East  Fiftieth  Street.  It 

was  he  who  introduced  Thauret  at  the  club,  and  had 
him  made  a  member.  He  was  out  of  town  from  Dec. 
ist  to  Dec.  4th.  Q ." 

At  this  point  of  his  reading  Mr.  Barnes  laid  down  his  book 
and  thought  a  moment.  These  questions  occurred  to  him. 

"  Is  this  man  Fisher  the  tool  of  Thauret  ?  He  is  poor, 
and  a  card-player.  He  is  well  born  and  has  a  sister  to 
support  in  a  style  suitable  to  her  birth.  Has  Thauret 
induced  him  to  play,  that  together  they  may  fleece  the 
other  members  of  the  club  ?  It  looks  like  it,  but  why 
this  sudden  intimacy  with  Mitchel  ?  Or  is  that  less  sud- 
den than  we  know,  and  have  they  been  long  acquainted  ? 
Again,  is  Fisher  the  man  who  received  the  satchel  from 
one  of  these  men,  and  then  took  it  to  the  hotel  in  New 
Haven  ?  He  was  out  of  town  at  the  time.  Why  did  he 
place  the  satchel  in  the  hotel,  and  then  abandon  it  ? 
After  securing  the  plunder,  why  did  he  thus  lose  it? 
Was  he  suddenly  overtaken  by  his  conscience  and 
becoming  aware  of  the  fact  that  Thauret  was  using  him 
as  a  tool  in  a  piece  of  criminal  work,  did  he  take  this 
method  of  clearing  himself,  and  of  allowing  the  jewels  to 
be  returned  to  their  owner  as  soon  as  found  in  the  hotel  ? 
This  would  account  for  Thauret's  having  left  the  train 
at  Stamford,  intending  perhaps  to  return  to  New  Haven 


1^4  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

and  meet  his  confederate.  Fisher,  meanwhile,  having 
abandoned  the  scheme  and  returned  to  New  York, 
Thauret  was  thwarted.  But  who  killed  the  woman  ?  " 
Mr.  Barnes  resumed  his  reading. 

"  Dec.  26.  Mitchel  arose  early,  and  called  for  Miss 
Remsen  at  eleven  o'clock.  Together  they  went  to  the 
home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. Van  Rawlston,  at  Fifth  Avenue  near 
Forty-eighth  Street.  They  remained  nearly  an  hour,  and 
then  separated  when  they  came  out.  Mitchel  eat 
luncheon  at  the  Brunswick,  where  he  was  joined  by 
Thauret.  They  went  to  the  club  in  the  afternoon  and 
played  whist.  They  lost  money.  Mitchel  paid  for  both, 
and  took  an  I.O.U.  from  Thauret  for  his  share.  Ran- 
dolph was  in  the  game.  There  is  a  growing  coolness 
between  Randolph  and  Mitchel.  They  barely  speak 
when  they  meet.  It  is  evident  that  no  love  is  lost 
between  Randolph  and  Thauret.  In  the  evening  the 
three  men  were  in  the  Remsens'  box  at  the  opera.  S . 

"  Miss  Remsen  accompanied  Mitchel  to  Mrs.  Van  Rawl- 
ston's  in  the  morning,  and  left  him  when  they  came  out. 
She  made  several  calls  mainly  upon  well-known  fashiona- 
ble society  leaders.  Something  is  evidently  on  the  tapis. 
It  occurred  to  me  that  the  missing  child  might  have  been 
placed  in  the  care  of  the  Van  Rawlstons.  Therefore  in 

the  afternoon  I  allowed  R to  follow  the  young  ladies 

on  a  shopping  expedition,  whilst  I  interviewed  the  police- 
man on  the  beat.  He  is  acquainted  with  the  Van  Rawl- 
ston's  maid,  and  will  send  a  report  to  you  to-night.  The 
ladies  went  to  the  opera  in  the  evening.  W . 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  DETECTIVE.  135 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Rawlston  have  three  children,  all 
younger  than  fourteen,  and  only  one  a  girl,  the  youngest. 
The  Miss  Remsen  who  called  was  a  Miss  Emily  Remsen. 
She  was  accompanied  by  a  Mr.  Robert  Mitchel.  They 
came  to  beg  Mrs.  Van  Rawlston  to  allow  a  society  to  which 
the  young  lady  belongs,  to  give  an  entertainment  in  her 
house.  The  entertainment  is  to  be  New  Year's  night. 
Policeman  1666. 

"  Dec.  23.  Mitchel  and  Thauret  went  to  a  costumer's 
on  Union  Square.  When  they  had  left  1  called  there  and 
said  that  I  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Mitchel's  and  wished  a 
costume  made  for  the  same  entertainment.  The  plan 
worked,  and  by  adroit  questioning  I  discovered  that  there 
is  to  be  an  Arabian  Night  festival  on  the  night  of  the 
New  Year.  It  is  to  be  a  costume  masquerade,  and 
Mitchel  has  promised  to  send  all  of  the  men  to  his  cos- 
turner  for  their  dresses.  He  ordered  an  Ali  Baba  dress. 
Thauret  left  no  order,  saying  he  would  not  attend.  I 
ordered  an  Aladdin  costume.  If  you  do  not  decide  to 
attend  I  can  countermand  the  order,  but  I  thought  you 
might  find  it  advantageous  to  be  present.  With  Aladdin's 
wonderful  lamp  you  might  shed  some  light  upon  the 
mystery.  Pardon  the  joke.  The  afternoon  and  evening 
were  spent  by  Mitchel  and  Thauret  at  their  club.  Again 
they  played  whist  and  again  they  lost.  S . 

"  The  young  ladies  spent  the  morning  at  a  fashionable 
dressmaker's  on  Madison  Avenue.  I  have  picked  up  an 
acquaintance  with  a  servant  girl  who  lives  in  one  of  the 
flats  in  Thirtieth  Street  house,  and  from  her  I  learn  that 


136  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

Miss  Remsen's  new  maid  tells  her  that  the  affair  at  the 
Van  Rawlston  house  will  be  a  costume  masquerade,  all 
parties  assuming  characters  from  the  Arabian  Nights. 
Miss  Emily  Remsen  will  appear  as  Scheherezade.  W ." 

Mr.  Barnes  turned  two  pages  at  this  point,  evidently 
considering  that  nothing  of  special  moment  was  contained 
in  the  reports  covering  the  next  few  days.  He  began 
again. 

"  Dec.  30.  Mr.  Mitchel  came  out  of  his  hotel  at  ten 
o'clock,  and  crossed  over  to  Jersey  City,  taking  an  express 
for  Philadelphia.  I  of  course  took  same  train.  S . 

"  The  Miss  Remsens  were  at  home  all  day.  They  are 
busy  on  their  costumes  for  the  coming  entertainment. 

"W . 

"  Dec.  31.  Telegram  from  Philadelphia.  '  Mitchel  at 
Lafayette  Hotel.  Is  sick  in  bed.  Doctor  in  attendance. 
Sent  a  telegram  to  Miss  Remsen  telling  her  that  he  cannot 
be  on  hand  to-morrow  night.'  S . 

"  Thauret  went  to  Union  Square  costumer  yesterday 
and  obtained  the  Ali  Baba  costume  ordered  for  Mitchel. 
He  gave  the  costumer  a  letter  which  he  had  received  from 
Mitchel,  dated  at  Philadelphia  yesterday.  It  reads  : 
'  Friend  Thauret,  I  am  suddenly  taken  ill.  Don't  let 
the  Remsens  know  that  it  is  anything  serious.  Oblige 
me,  if  possible,  by  attending  the  Arabian  Night  festival. 
I  enclose  my  invitation  and  a  note  to  Mr.  Van  Rawl- 
ston, which  will  introduce  you.  You  may  wear  my  cos- 
tume, and  the  costumer  will  give  it  to  you  if  you  present 
this.  You  were  to  have  gone  out  of  town  I  know, 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  DETECTIVE.  137 

but  if  you  wish  to  do  me  a  favor  I  hope  you  will  change 
your  plans  and  take  my  place.  I  do  not  wish  Miss  Rem- 
sen  to  be  entirely  unattended.  Therefore  be  with  her  as 
much  as  you  can.  She  will  be  dressed  as  Scheherezade. 

'  (Signed)  Mitchel.' 

"  I  obtained  this  from  the  costumer  by  saying  I  am  a 
detective  shadowing  a  criminal.     Q ." 


CHAPTER  X. 

ALI   BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES. 

AFTER  reading  the  foregoing,  Mr.  Barnes  carefully 
locked  his  diary  in  his  cabinet,  and  immediately  after  left 
the  house  on  his  way  to  New  York.  Reaching  there  he 
proceeded  up-town,  finally  ringing  the  door-bell  of  the 
Van  Rawlston  mansion.  He  requested  to  see  the  master 
of  the  house  upon  urgent  business,  and  that  gentleman 
soon  presented  himself. 

"  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "  I  am  a  detec- 
tive. May  I  have  a  few  moments  of  strictly  private 
conversation  with  you  ? " 

"Certainly,"  was  the  reply.  "  Step  into  my  study.  We 
will  be  entirely  safe  from  prying  ears  there."  A  moment 
later  the  two  men  were  seated  in  comfortable  leather 
chairs  facing  each  other. 

"  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,"  began  the  detective,  "  to  explain 
my  purpose  at  once,  I  have  only  to  say  that  I  desire  your 
permission  to  attend  the  masquerade  which  will  be  held 
here  to-night.  I  am  aware  that  this  must  seem  an  odd 
request,  but  I  make  it  entirely  in  your  own  interests." 

"If  you  will  explain  more  fully,  sir,  I  may  be  quite 
willing  to  grant  your  request,"  said  the  other. 

"  You  should  know  that  a  masquerade  is  a  dangerous 
138 


ALI   BABA    AND   THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  135 

kind  of  entertainment.  At  such  affairs  large  robberies 
have  often  been  committed — the  thieves  operating  boldly, 
and  escaping  through  the  aid  of  their  disguises.  I  have 
good  reason  for  believing  that  such  a  crime  is  contem- 
plated to-night." 

"  My  dear  sir,  impossible  !  Why,  no  one  will  be  ad- 
mitted save  those  with  whom  we  are  well  acquainted. 
Tickets  have  been  issued  by  the  society  which  gives  the 
festival,  and  every  one  must  unmask  before  being  allowed 
to  enter.  Therefore,  whilst  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  your 
warning,  I  hardly  think  that  I  need  your  services." 

"  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  I  regret  to  say  that  you  are  mis- 
taken. In  the  first  place,  your  close  scrutiny  of  all  who 
enter  will  probably  be  relaxed  as  the  night  wears  on. 
Again,  there  are  ways  of  getting  in  unperceived,  and  once 
within,  the  thief  would  be  unsuspected.  But  this  is  no 
guesswork  on  my  part.  I  do  not  think,  I  know,  that, 
unless  I  am  here  to  prevent  it,  a  robbery  will  be  com- 
mitted. Indeed,  I  may  even  fail  to  prevent  it." 

"  Why,  sir,  you  speak  as  though  you  know  the  person 
who  is  to  play  the  criminal." 

"  I  do.  For  several  weeks  my  men  have  been  watching 
certain  suspicious  parties.  From  data  furnished  by  my 
spies,  I  am  sure  that  plans  have  been  perfected  by  which 
one  or  more  of  your  guests  will  be  robbed  during  the 
progress  of  the  entertainment." 

"  Still  it  seems  incredible.  As  I  have  said,  no  one  will 
be  able  to  enter  without  our  knowledge." 

"Of  course,   I  cannot  intrude  upon  you,   Mr.  Van 


140  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

Rawlston.  But  if  you  are  obliged  to  appeal  to  the  police 
to-morrow  for  the  recovery  of  stolen  property,  you  alone 
will  be  to  blame  if  the  thief  shall  have  had  several  hours 
the  start  of  us.  I  have  warned  you.  That  is  the  best  I 
can  do.  I  wish  you  good-morning."  Mr.  Barnes  rose 
to  go,  but  Mr.  Van  Rawlston  stopped  him. 

"  One  moment,"  said  he.  "  If  you  are  so  sure  that 
there  is  a  scheme  of  robbery  afoot,  of  course  I  must  not 
be  so  rash  as  to  refuse  your  aid.  What  do  you  advise  ? 
We  could  postpone  the  festival." 

"  By  no  means.  The  course  to  pursue  is  to  keep  what 
I  have  told  you  strictly  secret.  In  fact,  if  possible,  dis- 
miss it  entirely  from  your  mind,  so  that  by  your  behavior 
the  thief  may  not  know  that  suspicions  have  been  aroused. 
Do  as  I  requested  at  first,  and  as  I  know  my  man  I  will 
be  able  to  keep  an  eye  upon  him  should  he  be  present." 

"  I  suppose  it  must  be  as  you  say.  But  you  must  be 
in  costume.  I  have  it !  The  committee  have  ordered 
some  costumes  which  they  will  give  to  those  who  come 
unprovided.  You  may  have  one  of  those." 

"  What  costume  shall  I  ask  for  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  are  all  alike.    They  are  the  Forty  Thieves." 

"The  Forty  Thieves?"  Mr.  Barnes  was  surprised. 
"  Is  not  that  an  odd  costume  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  It  was  Mr.  Mitchel's  idea.  He  is  the  chair- 
man of  the  committee.  He  argued  that  rather  than  pro- 
vide a  lot  of  meaningless  dominos,  the  stragglers,  who 
will  be  chiefly  invited  guests  who  are  not  members  of  the 
society,  may  be  thus  garbed,  and  still  fall  into  the  scheme 


ALI   BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  141 

of  the  evening,  which  is  that  every  one  shall  play  the 
part  of  some  character  of  the  Arabian  Nights." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Rawlston,  for  once  the  detective  will 
don  the  garb  of  a  thief.  After  all,  you  know  the  adage, 
'  it  takes  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief.'  ' 

"  Very  good,  Mr.  Barnes — I  believe  that  is  the  name 
on  your  card  ?  Yes — Well,  come  to-night  early  and  you 
shall  be  fitted  out.  Later,  if  you  should  wish  to  speak 
to  me,  I  shall  be  dressed  as  the  Sultan,  a  character  about 
as  foreign  to  my  true  self  as  yours  will  be  to  you." 

Mr.  Barnes  left  the  house  thoroughly  satisfied  with  the 
result  of  his  visit.  In  the  first  place  he  had  learned 
something.  Mr.  Mitchel  had  decided  upon  the  costum- 
ing of  the  guests.  He  had  arranged  that  at  least  forty 
of  them  should  be  dressed  alike.  Could  there  have  been 
any  secret  design  in  this  ?  If  so,  Mr.  Barnes  was  glad 
to  be  one  of  the  forty.  Again,  this  would  be  better  than 
to  use  the  Aladdin  costume,  for  the  reason  that  he  had 
come  to  count  Mr.  Mitchel  as  so  clever  that  it  would  not 
have  astonished  the  detective  at  all  if  it  were  known  to 
him  that  this  Aladdin  costume  had  been  ordered.  In  that 
case  the  absence  of  such  a  costume  amongst  the  guests 
would  confuse  the  conspirators.  Mr.  Barnes  had  fully 
decided  that  more  than  one  person  was  interested  in  the 
approaching  evening. 

As  early  as  nine  o'clock  the  maskers  began  to  arrive  at 
the  home  of  the  Van  Rawlstons.  The  host  appeared  for 
the  time  in  evening  dress,  and  received  and  welcomed  his 
guests,  all  of  whom  wore  wraps  that  covered  their  cos- 


142  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

tumes,  thus  hiding  the  disguises  which  they  meant  to  use 
later  on.  Mr.  Barnes  was  on  hand  early,  and  loitered 
about  the  hall,  in  his  thief's  garb,  scanning  the  faces  of 
all  as  they  passed  in.  After  a  very  brief  period  of  wait- 
ing he  saw  the  Remsen  party  alight  from  their  carriage, 
escorted  by  Mr.  Randolph.  Soon  after  Mr.  Thauret 
entered.  He  handed  a  note  to  Mr.  Van  Rawlston  who 
upon  reading  it  at  once  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand. 
Then  almost  as  suddenly  an  expression  of  suspicion 
passed  across  his  face,  and  he  looked  toward  Mr.  Barnes, 
who,  however,  turned  away,  refusing  to  notice  his  glance 
of  inquiry.  Evidently  the  host,  not  knowing  Mr.  Thauret 
and  remembering  the  detective's  words,  had  begun  to 
suspect  that  perhaps  the  note  which  he  had  just  read  was 
fraudulent.  Mr.  Barnes  was  fearful  that  he  would  make 
some  remark  which  would  ruin  everything,  when  to  his 
intense  relief  Miss  Remsen  came  into  the  hall  with  her 
wraps  still  on  and  went  directly  up  to  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  How  are  you  this  evening,  Mr.  Thauret  ?  I  am  glad 
you  decided  to  come.  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  Mr.  Thaaret 
is  a  friend  of  Mr.  Mitchel's." 

That  sufficed,  and  Mr.  Van  Rawlston  seemed  much 
relieved. 

Mr.  Thauret  was  not  in  costume,  but  he  had  brought 
with  him  a  satchel,  and  now  asked  where  he  might  find  a 
place  to  dress.  He  was  turned  over  to  one  of  the  liveried 
boys,  who  showed  him  to  one  of  the  rooms  set  aside  for 
the  gentlemen.  Mr.  Barnes  did  not  enter,  for  had  he  done 
so  without  removing  his  mask  it  might  have  aroused 


ALI    BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  143 

suspicion.  He  however  kept  watch  near  the  door,  and 
soon  saw  a  man  come  out  dressed  as  Ali  Baba.  This  was 
easily  learned,  for  the  committee  had  prepared  handsome 
badges,  upon  each  of  which  was  engraved  the  name  of 
the  character  assumed.  These  were  of  burnished  silver, 
the  lettering  being  done  in  blue  enamel.  They  were  worn 
on  the  left  breast,  and  were  intended  to  serve  as  souvenirs 
of  the  evening.  Mr.  Barnes  smiled  behind  his  mask  as  he 
looked  down  at  his,  which,  to  his  mind,  reminded  him  of 
a  policeman's  shield. 

The  rooms  were  gorgeously  decorated  in  Oriental 
splendor.  The  larger  one  was  designated  the  Sultan's 
Palace,  and  was  truly  regal  in  its  arrangement.  There 
were  no  chairs,  but  soft  divans,  and  many-hued  alluring 
cushions  were  to  be  found  everywhere  around  the  walls. 
The  floors  were  covered  with  rugs  four  deep.  The  walls 
were  draped  with  satin,  drawn  apart  to  reveal  mirrors 
which  multiplied  the  beauty  of  everything.  The  ceiling 
was  hung  with  garlands,  in  which  were  twined  roses  of  all 
kinds,  which  made  the  atmosphere  redolent  with  perfume. 
From  among  these  garlands  hundreds  of  gilded  cages  held 
singing-birds,  and  electric  lights  made  the  rooms  so  bril- 
liant that  many  times  during  the  evening  they  warbled  in 
chorus,  thinking  it  morning. 

The  smaller  room  represented  Aladdin's  Cave.  Stalac- 
tites, resplendent  with  seeming  jewels,  hung  pendent  from 
the  ceiling.  The  walls  were  made  to  resemble  rough 
stone,  and  every  few  inches  a  large  precious  stone  was 
made  fiery  by  the  tiny  electric  lamp  hidden  behind 


144  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

it.  The  floor  alone  was  unlike  a  cave,  being  waxed  foi 
dancing.  In  a  grotto  up  ten  feet  above  the  floor,  the 
musicians  played  soft,  sensuous  music. 

The  festival  opened  informally.  That  is,  whilst  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  others,  those  already  present  amused 
themselves  waltzing,  chatting,  or  chaffing  one  another. 
Mr.  Barnes  sauntered  about,  keeping  AH  Baba  in  sight. 
Scheherezade  came  in  on  the  arm  of  the  Sultan.  These 
he  knew  to  be  Miss  Remsen  and  Mr.  Van  Rawlston.  Ali 
Baba  joined  them  almost  immediately,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  led  Scheherezade  into  Aladdin's  Cave  for  a  dance. 
Mr.  Barnes  stood  observing  them,  when  some  one  touched 
him  on  the  arm,  and  turning,  he  saw  a  man  costumed  as 
himself. 

"  We  must  be  careful,  or  Ali  Baba  may  discover  our  pass- 
word, '  Sesame,'  as  he  did  in  the  real  story." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  replied  Mr.  Barnes. 

The  other  man  looked  at  him  intently  a  moment  through 
his  mask,  and  without  a  word  moved  away. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  mystified.  He  regretted  that  he  had 
not  replied  in  some  less  candid  fashion,  that  he  might 
have  heard  the  voice  again.  But  taken  by  surprise  as  he 
was,  he  had  lost  his  self-possession  for  a  moment.  If  he 
were  not  mistaken  the  voice  was  one  which  he  had  heard 
before.  He  racked  his  memory  for  some  minutes,  and 
suddenly  started  as  this  thought  entered  his  mind. 

"  Were  he  not  sick  in  Philadelphia,  I  should  say  that 
was  Mitchel."  He  followed  across  the  room  after  the 
person,  but  he  saw  him  go  out  into  the  hall,  and  by  the 


ALI   BABA    AND   THE   FORTY   THIEVES.  145 

time  that  he  himself  reached  there,  there  were  at  least  a 
dozen  similar  costumes  in  a  group.  He  looked  them 
over  carefully,  but  there  was  nothing  by  which  he  could 
pick  out  the  special  man  for  whom  he  was  searching.  He 
went  up  to  one  at  hap-hazard,  and  whispered  to  him  : 

"Sesame." 

"  Sesa — what !  "  came  the  reply,  in  a  strange  tone. 

"  Don't  you  know  our  password  ?  "  asked  the  detective. 

"Password ?  Rats  !  !  We  are  not  real  thieves"  ;  and 
with  a  laugh  he  turned  away.  Mr.  Barnes  felt  himself 
powerless,  and  besides  recalled  the  fact  that  whilst  he 
followed  this  will-o'-the-wisp  he  was  not  keeping  an  eye 
upon  Ali  Baba.  Hurrying  back  into  the  ball-room,  he 
soon  found  him,  though  he  had  parted  from  Scheherezade. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  a  blare  upon  a  cornet  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  frolicking  throng.  A  man  dressed 
as  a  Genius  announced  that  the  time  had  arrived  for 
the  entertainment.  Immediately  every  one  went  into  the 
Aladdin's  Cave  room,  except  Scheherezade  and  the  Sultan, 
and  a  heavy  pair  of  satin  curtains  were  dropped,  so  that 
they  hid  the  Cave  from  the  Sultan's  Palace. 

The  Sultan  lay  down  upon  a  divan  near  the  curtains, 
and  Scheherezade  sat  beside  him  upon  a  satin  cushion  on 
the  floor.  Behind  the  curtains,  the  committee  busied 
themselves  forming  a  tableau,  those  not  needed  being 
hidden  from  view  behind  still  another  pair  of  curtains, 
which  were  of  a  gloriously  beautiful  blue,  and  served  as 
a  rich  background.  Many  of  the  guests,  knowing  that 
their  tableau  would  not  be  reached  for  some  time,  passed 


146  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

around  and  stood  crowding  about  the  doorways  of  the 
hall,  to  get  a  view  of  the  first  pictures. 

Soft  music  was  begun,  when  at  a  signal  the  electric 
lights  in  the  Palace  room  were  extinguished,  and  the  front 
pair  of  yellow  satin  curtains  were  drawn  aside  showing  a 
tableau  of  Sindbad  the  Sailor.  Mr.  Barnes  peeping  from 
behind  the  red  curtain  noticed  that  as  Scheherezade  sat 
on  her  low  cushion,  in  the  now  darkened  Palace  room, 
the  rays  of  an  electric  light  in  the  Cave  just  touched  a  gor- 
geous ruby  which  she  wore  in  her  hair.  This  he  knew  at 
once  was  the  same  which  Mr.  Mitchel  had  shown  to  him, 
and  which  Lucette  told  him  had  been  presented  to  his 
fiancee. 

Scheherezade  began  to  recite  the  story  of  Sindbad,  a 
monologue  for  the  evening  having  been  prepared  which 
told  in  a  few  words  enough  to  explain  the  sequence  of 
the  tableaux.  Her  voice  was  musical,  and  her  reading 
admirable,  so  that  very  soon  there  was  a  silence  as  of 
death  save  as  it  was  broken  by  her  words.  As  she 
reached  various  parts  of  her  tale,  she  would  clap  her 
hands,  and  at  once  others  entered  the  scene,  grouping 
themselves  to  form  new  pictures.  Thus  Sindbad  was  fol- 
lowed along  his  various  travels,  till  at  the  end  the  curtains 
were  dropped  for  a  moment,  to  be  parted  again,  showing 
all  who  had  taken  a  character.  Then  followed  a  pretty 
ceremonial.  Sindbad  passed  out  of  the  Cave  room  and 
approached  the  Sultan  and  Scheherezade.  Reaching 
them  he  stopped,  made  a  salaam,  bowing  low  with  his 
arms  upraised  in  front  of  him,  and  then  passing  on,  tak- 


ALI   BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  147 

ing  a  place  in  the  room  and  so  becoming  a  part  of  the 
audience  for  the  succeeding  pictures.  Each  of  the  char- 
acters followed  his  example,  until  all  had  passed  out, 
when  the  next  set  of  tableaux  was  at  once  quickly  ar- 
ranged. Again  Scheherezade  renewed  her  recitation. 

Thus  fable  after  fable  was  told  and  acted,  the  audience 
in  the  Palace  room  growing  larger,  after  each,  so 
that  soon  well-managed  pictures  received  generous 
applause. 

At  last  the  committee  announced  that  the  fable  of  Ali 
Baba  and  the  Forty  Thieves  would  be  the  next  on  the 
program.  The  parts  to  be  acted  by  each  were  quickly 
explained,  and  all  was  ready.  As  the  Forty  Thieves  were 
practically  like  supernumeraries  in  a  spectacular  play, 
Mr.  Barnes  thought  that  he  could  take  any  position  which 
he  should  choose  and  so  stood  through  all  the  scenes  as 
near  to  Ali  Baba  as  possible.  At  last  the  recitation  was 
ended,  and  the  signal  given  for  them  to  form  a  line 
to  do  obeisance  to  the  Sultan  Mr.  Barnes  attempted  to 
stand  immediately  behind  Ali  Baba,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  two  other  men  try  for  the  same  place  coincidently. 
There  was  a  moment  of  confusion,  and  then  Mr.  Barnes 
found  himself  in  line  just  between  the  two  other  aspir- 
ants for  second  place  behind  the  leader. 

That  what  next  occurred  may  be  thoroughly  under- 
stood, it  will  be  well  to  call  accurate  attention  to  the 
position  of  the  various  actors.  The  Palace  room  was 
practically  dark,  though  light  from  the  Cave  room  lessened 
the  gloom  so  much  that  the  figures  could  be  distinguished 


148  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

enough  to  know  whether  a  man  or  a  woman  were  crossing 
the  floor. 

The  Sultan,  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  lay  on  a  divan,  not  far 
from  the  Cave  room,  and  facing  it.  Scheherezade,  Miss 
Emily  Remsen,  sat  on  a  cushion  beside  him.  Both  of 
them  faced  the  tableaux,  and  it  will  be  seen  at  once  that 
from  gazing  towards  the  light,  if  either  turned  towards 
the  darkness,  blindness  would  result  for  a  few  moments. 
Ali  Baba,  heading  the  line  of  Forty  Thieves  came  tow- 
ards the  divan.  Here  he  stopped,  made  a  salaam,  bow- 
ing low,  bringing  his  arms  up  above  the  head  outstretched 
in  front  of  him,  then  parting  them  with  a  swaying  move- 
ment backwards,  he  rose  erect  again.  This  done  he 
passed  on  into  the  darker  part  of  the  room.  Next  came 
the  first  of  the  Forty  Thieves,  Mr.  Barnes  following  close 
behind  him.  This  man  made  his  salaam,  bowing  low. 
As  he  did  so  there  was  a  slight  noise.  This  attracted  Mr. 
Barnes's  attention  for  a  moment,  and  his  eye  wandered  in 
the  direction  of  the  sound.  For  the  merest  part  of  a 
second,  however,  did  his  gaze  leave  the  man  before  him, 
and  when  it  returned  he  distinctly  saw  the  figure  do  this. 
In  making  his  salaam  when  outstretching  his  arms  he 
allowed  his  hand  to  pass  just  over  the  head  of  Miss  Rem- 
sen, who  was  looking  down,  perhaps  to  become  relieved 
from  the  glare  of  the  other  room.  Mr.  Barnes  saw  him 
deliberately  and  slowly  take  hold  of  her  ruby  pin,  gently 
withdrawing  it  from  her  hair.  Just  then  a  clock  began 
to  chime  the  midnight  hour.  Instantaneously  a  thought 
flashed  through  the  detective's  mind  At  the  first  note  of 


ALI   BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  149 

the  chimes  the  time  had  passed  within  which  Mr.  Mitchel 
had  wagered  to  commit  his  robbery.  He  had  thought 
that  the  man  who  had  spoken  to  him  had  the  voice 
of  Mr.  Mitchel.  He  had  also  come  to  this  place  ex- 
pecting that  this  very  jewel  would  be  stolen.  He  had 
supposed  that  Thauret  would  play  the  part  of  accomplice 
and  thief,  whilst  the  principal,  Mitchel,  was  manufactur- 
ing an  alibi  down  in  Philadelphia.  It  was  evident  now, 
so  he  thought,  that  Mitchel  had  escaped  his  spies,  re- 
turned to  New  York,  assumed  one  of  the  disguises  which 
he  himself  had  placed  within  easy  reach,  and  now,  on 
the  very  stroke  of  the  last  hour  of  his  time,  had  com- 
mitted his  robbery, — a  robbery,  too,  which  would  make 
a  commotion,  and  yet  for  which  he  could  not  be  im- 
prisoned if  detected,  since  his  fiancee  at  his  instigation 
would  say  that  she  had  simply  aided  the  scheme  to  fur- 
ther the  wager,  as  perhaps  she  had,  since  she  did  not  stir 
when  the  gem  was  being  taken.  All  this  flashed  through 
Mr.  Barnes's  brain  in  a  half  moment,  and  by  the  time  the 
thief  before  him  had  secured  the  ruby  and  was  standing 
erect  he  had  decided  upon  his  course  of  action.  This  was 
to  seize  the  man  at  once,  and  proclaim  him  a  thief.  Of 
course  Mr.  Mitchel  would  be  able  to  explain  his  act,  but 
at  the  same  time  he  would  have  lost  his  wager. 

The  man  in  front  turned  to  pass  on,  and  Mr.  Barnes 
darted  forward  to  seize  him,  when,  to  his  astonishment,  he 
was  himself  held  as  in  a  vise  by  the  man  behind  him. 
He  struggled  to  free  himself,  but,  taken  by  surprise,  he 
discovered  that  he  was  powerless.  What  angered  him 


150  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

more  was  that  the  thief  was  fast  disappearing  in  the 
gloom.  Determined  not  to  be  outwitted,  he  shouted  : 

"  Turn  up  the  lights.     A  robbery  has  been  committed." 

Instantly  all  was  confusion.  People  crowded  forward, 
and  Mr.  Barnes  felt  himself  hurled  violently  toward  the 
advancing  throng.  Toppling  against  some  one,  both  fell 
to  the  ground,  and  several  others  tumbled  over  them. 
Pandemonium  reigned  supreme,  yet  it  was  some  time 
before  any  one  thought  of  turning  up  the  lights.  Mr. 
Van  Rawlston,  understanding  the  situation  better  than  any 
other,  was  the  first  to  recover  his  presence  of  mind,  and 
himself  turned  on  the  electricity.  The  sudden  rush  of 
light  at  first  only  made  things  worse,  for  it  blinded  every- 
body. Thus  to  the  detective's  chagrin  several  valuable 
minutes  were  lost  before  he  could  extricate  himself  from 
the  pile  of  people  who  had  tumbled  over  him,  and  find  a 
chance  to  say  aloud  : 

"  Miss  Remsen  has  been  robbed.  Let  no  one  leave  the 
house.  Masks  off." 

Mr.  Van  Rawlston  rushed  to  the  door  to  see  that  no 
one  departed,  and  people  crowded  around  Miss  Remsen 
to  condole  with  her  upon  her  loss.  Mr.  Barnes  searched 
for  Ali  Baba,  and  was  amazed  when  he  found  him  to 
discover  that  it  was  not  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  he  asked  roughly. 

"  My  name  is  Adrian  Fisher,"  was  the  reply.  This 
astonished  the  detective,  but  it  pleased  him  too,  for  it 
seemed  to  confirm  the  suspicion  that  this  man  was  an 
accomplice.  He  decided  quickly  to  say  no  more  to  him 


ALT   BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  151 

at  that  time,  and  hastened  towards  Miss  Remsen  to 
observe  her  behavior.  If  she  knew  anything  in  advance 
she  certainly  was  acting  admirably,  for  she  had  grown 
excited,  and  was  talking  vehemently  to  those  about  her, 
declaring  against  the  disgraceful  management,  so  she 
termed  it,  which  had  enabled  a  thief  to  enter  the  rooms. 

Whilst  Mr.  Barnes  was  thinking  what  to  do,  he  saw 
Mr.  Van  Rawlston  approaching  him,  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Thauret,  who  was  now  in  evening  dress. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  how  was  this  thing  done  ?  Why  did  you 
not  prevent  it  ?  " 

"  I  tried  to  do  so,  but  could  not.  You  must  under- 
stand, Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  that  I  am  not  omniscient.  I 
suspected  that  this  robbery  would  occur,  but  I  could  not 
know  how  it  would  be  accomplished.  Nevertheless  I 
saw  the  act." 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  seize  the  thief  ?  " 

"  I  attempted  to  do  so,  and  was  thrown  down  from 
behind  by  his  accomplice." 

"  Can  you  identify  the  person  by  his  dress  ? " 

"  That  is,  unfortunately,  impossible.  All  that  I  know 
is  that  he  was  one  of  the  Forty  Thieves,  and  evidently 
played  his  part  well." 

"  This  is  Mr.  Barnes  ?  "  said  Mr.  Thauret,  inquiringly, 
continuing  at  once  :  "  Yes,  of  course  it  is.  We  have  met 
twice,  I  think.  You  say  your  thief  was  dressed  as  one  of 
the  Forty  Thieves.  That  interests  me,  for  I  wore  one  of 
those  dresses.  Why  not  ask  all  who  did  to  allow  them- 
selves to  be  searched  ? " 


158  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

"  I  will  not  hear  of  such  an  indignity  to  my  guests,"  at 
once  ejaculated  Mr.  Van  Rawlston.  "  Search  people  in 
my  own  house  !  No,  sir.  I  will  willingly  pay  for  the 
lost  gem  rather  than  do  so." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  the  detective,  keenly  eying 
Mr.  Thauret,  "  I  am  sure  that  it  would  be  useless." 

"  As  you  please,"  said  Mr.  Thauret,  and  with  a  satirical 
smile  he  bowed  and  joined  the  group  around  Miss  Remsen. 

Mr.  Barnes  told  Mr.  Van  Rawlston  *hat  it  would  be 
useless  for  him  to  remain  longer,  and  that  he  would  de- 
part. He  did  not  do  so,  however,  until  he  had  assured 
himself  that  Mr.  Mitchel  was  not  in  the  house.  He  went 
to  the  door,  and  found  that  the  boy  who  had  been  told 
to  guard  it  had  been  absent  looking  at  the  tableaux  when 
the  confusion  occurred,  so  that  he  did  not  know  whether 
any  one  had  left  the  house  or  not.  He  therefore  departed 
in  disgust. 

"  That  fellow  Mitchel,"  thought  he,  as  he  walked  rap- 
idly down  the  avenue, — "  that  fellow  is  an  artist.  To  think 
of  the  audacity  of  waiting  till  the  very  moment  when  his 
wager  would  be  lost,  and  then  committing  the  robbery  in 
such  a  manner  that  a  hundred  people  will  be  able  to  testify 
that  it  occurred  within  the  limited  period.  Meanwhile 
there  is  an  excellent  alibi  for  him.  Sick  in  a  hotel  in  Phila- 
delphia !  Bah  !  Is  n't  there  one  man  that  I  can  depend 
upon  ?  " 

At  Forty-second  Street  he  took  the  elevated  road,  and 
in  twenty  minutes  he  was  at  his  office.  Here  he  found 
the  spy  who  had  followed  Mr.  Mitchel  to  Philadelphia. 


ALI    BABA    AND    THE    FORTY    THIEVES.  153 

0  Well,"  said  he,  angrily,  "  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  that  Mitchel  has  returned  to  New  York.  I 
came  on  hoping  to  catch  up  with  him,  and  at  least  to 
warn  you." 

"  Your  warning  comes  too  late.  The  mischief  is  done. 
Did  n't  you  have  brains  enough  to  telegraph  ?  " 

"  I  did  just  before  I  started."  The  despatch  was  on 
Mr.  Barnes's  desk  unopened.  It  had  arrived  after  he 
had  started  for  the  festival. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  detective,  testily,  "  I  suppose  you 
have  done  your  best.  That  fellow  has  the  devil's  luck. 
What  made  you  think  that  he  had  come  to  New  York  ? 
Was  n't  he  sick  ?  " 

"  I  thought  that  might  be  a  game  for  an  alibi.  To  find 
out,  I  registered,  asking  for  a  room  near  my  friend  Mr. 
Mitchel.  They  gave  me  the  one  next  to  his.  I  picked 
the  lock  of  the  door  between  the  rooms  and  peeped  in. 
Seeing  no  one,  I  went  in.  The  place  was  empty.  The 
bird  had  skipped." 

"  Take  the  next  train  back  to  Philadelphia,  and  do  the 
best  you  can  to  find  out  when  Mitchel  reaches  there.  He 
has  gone  back  sure,  and  will  be  sick  in  bed  in  the  morn- 
ing, or  my  name  is  not  Barnes.  Bring  me  proof  of  his 
trip  to  and  from  New  York,  and  I  will  give  you  fifty 
dollars.  Skip." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MR.    BARNES    RECEIVES   SEVERAL   LETTERS. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  third  of  January  the  mail 
which  reached  Mr.  Barnes  contained  several  letters  of 
interest  to  those  who  follow  this  history.  The  first  which 
he  opened  was  very  brief.  It  read  : 

"  If  Mr.  Barnes  will  call  at  his  earliest  convenience  he 
will  greatly  oblige  EMILY  REMSEN." 

He  read  this  twice,  and  then  took  up  another,  which 
was  as  follows : 
"  J.  BARNES,  ESQ.  : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  take  the  liberty  of  recalling  to  your 
mind  the  conversation  which  I  had  with  you  last  month. 
I  regret  very  much  that  I  should  have  hinted  that  there 
was  any  possibility  that  my  friend  Mr.  Mitchel  might  be 
implicated  in  the  Pullman  car  robbery.  As  you  know, 
Miss  Emily  Remsen  was  robbed  at  the  festival,  night 
before  last,  of  a  ruby  pin  worth  $20,000.  It  is  very  evi- 
dent fo  my  mind  that  Mr.  Mitchel's  hand  is  in  this.  I 
know  that  he  pretends  to  be  sick  at  a  hotel  in  Philadel- 
phia, but  may  not  that  be  a  humbug  ?  It  would  have 
been  easy  enough  for  him  to  slip  over,  don  one  of  the 
Forty  Thieves  dominos,  take  the  gem,  and  get  back  to 
Philadelphia  the  same  night.  This  would  be  a  safe  theft 

i54 


MR.    BARwES    RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.  I5| 

for  him  to  commit,  especially  as  he  may  have  the  assist- 
ance of  Miss  Remsen.  Now  as  all  is  fair  in  a  bet,  I 
want  you  to  undertake  to  prove  for  me  that  Mr.  Mitchel 
committed  this  theft.  I  want  to  win  that  wager  from 
him,  and  don't  mind  spending  money.  Even  if  I  should 
advance  you  the  whole  thousand,  I  should  save  my  own, 
provided  you  convict  him  within  a  year.  Besides,  the 
satisfaction  to  me  would  be  worth  the  money.  It  takes 
a  sharp  man  to  get  ahead  of  Mr.  Mitchel.  I  enclose 
check  for  two  hundred,  as  a  sort  of  retainer,  and  you 
may  draw  on  me  for  more,  up  to  one  thousand  dollars  if 
you  should  need  it.  By  the  way,  whilst  writing  to  you  I 
may  as  well  confess  that  I  was  wrong  in  my  suspicion  of 
Mr.  Thauret.  I  am  sure  that  he  does  not  cheat  at  cards. 
I  have  watched  him  frequently  since  then,  and  he  cer- 
tainly plays  a  square  game.  I  have  no  reason  for  liking 
the  man,  and  as  a  fact  dislike  him  most  heartily.  Never- 
theless justice  compels  me  to  retract  the  imputation  which 
I  put  upon  him.  Another  thing  :  the  partner  with  whom 
he  played  that  night  I  told  you  was  unknown  to  me.  I 
have  since  made  his  acquaintance,  and  though  he  is  poor, 
he  is  a  gentleman,  and  above  suspicion.  His  name  is 
Adrian  Fisher.  Hoping  you  will  help  me  to  win  my 
wager,  Yours  truly, 

"ARTHUR  RANDOLPH.'* 

"So,"  thought  Mr.  Barnes,  "even  Mr.  Randolph  sees 
through  the  transparent  scheme  of  being  sick  in  Philadel- 
phia and  stealing  his  sweetheart's  jewelry  in  New  York. 
It  is  one  thing  to  see  the  trick,  however,  and  quite  an- 


I$6  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

other  to  prove  it.  He  thinks  that  Thauret  and  Fisher  are 
both  virtuous.  Well,  I  am  afraid  he  is  mistaken  there." 
He  took  up  another  letter.  It  read  : 

"PHILADELPHIA,  Jan.  zd. 
"  DEAR  MR.  BARNES  : 

"  Pardon  my  familiarity,  but  I  think  we  are  getting 
pretty  well  acquainted  with  one  another.  I  have  just 
read  the  New  York  newspapers,  and  am  startled  to  see 
that  Miss  Remsen  was  deliberately  robbed  of  that  valua- 
ble ruby  pin  which  I  recently  gave  her.  You  will  remem- 
ber that  I  showed  you  the  gem  the  very  day  that  I  took  it 
to  be  set.  I  am  very  much  disturbed  about  this  affair, 
especially  as  I  am  unable  through  sickness  to  return  to 
New  York,  and  my  physician  warns  me  that  it  will  be 
several  days  before  I  can  leave  my  room.  Will  you  do 
me  a  great  favor  ?  Forget  that  I  ever  disparaged  the 
detective  force  of  which  you  are  undoubtedly  a  brilliant 
member,  and  take  this  case  in  hand.  I  will  give  you  one 
thousand  dollars  if  you  will  recover  the  jewel,  which  is 
only  a  small  reward  considering  its  value.  I  send  you  a 
check  for  two  hundred  dollars,  which  you  may  use  for 
expenses,  and  if  more  be  needed  let  me  know.  I  wish 
you  could  run  over  to  Philadelphia  to  see  me.  A  conver- 
sation with  you  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  me.  Will 
you  oblige,  Yours  very  truly, 

"ROBERT  LEROY  MITCHEL." 

Mr.  Barnes  read  this  no  less  than  three  times,  and  then 
said  aloud,  though  there  was  no  one  to  hear  him  :  "  Well !  " 
That  was  all,  but  the  tone  was  rich  in  suggestiveness. 


MR.    BARNES   RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.  I$? 

What  he  thought,  but  did  not  put  into  words,  was  :  "  That 
man  has  the  coolest  audacity  I  ever  met.  Here  he  actu- 
ally offers  me  a  thousand  dollars  to  recover  that  ruby, 
when  he  knows  that  I  was  right  by  his  side  at  the  time  of 
the  theft.  Is  he  so  egotistic  that  he  dares  to  guy  me  ? 
Is  he  so  sure  that  he  cannot  be  convicted  ?  I  know  that 
he  was  not  in  Philadelphia  any  way,  as  my  man  found 
his  room  empty.  His  alibi  is  broken,  at  all  events,  clever 
as  he  thinks  himself.  Will  I  go  to  Philadelphia  to  see 
him  ?  Well,  I  should  think  so  !  A  conversation  with 
him  will  be  as  satisfactory  to  me  as  it  possibly  can  be  to 
him.  But  first  I  must  obey  the  call  from  Miss  Remsen. 
There  may  be  much  to  learn  there." 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  Mr.  Barnes's  duties  in  con- 
nection with  other  cases  made  him  at  liberty.  He  went 
straight  to  Miss  Remsen's,  and  was  shown  into  her 
presence. 

"  You  sent  for  me,  Miss  Remsen,"  he  began. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Barnes,"  she  replied.  "  Will  you  be  seated  ? " 
The  detective  accepted  her  invitation,  and  she  continued  : 
"  To  come  to  the  point  at  once,  I  wish  to  see  you  about  my 
lost  ruby.  It  was  a  present  from  Mr.  Mitchel  to  me,  and 
besides  being  very  costly,  I  attach  a  sentimental  value  to 
it.  I  want  you  to  undertake  to  recover  it,  and  I  will  give 
you  a  thousand  dollars  if  you  succeed." 

Mr.  Barnes  had  never  had  so  many  thousand-dollar 
offers  made  to  him  in  so  short  a  time  before.  He  smiled 
slightly,  and  said  : 

"  Your  offer  comes  too  late,  Miss  Remsen.      I  have  a 


158  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

letter  from  Mr.  Mitchel  himself,  making  a  similar  offer. 
It  would  scarcely  be  proper  for  me  to  accept  two  rewards 
for  one  service." 

"  Then  you  refuse  to  help  me  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  will  use  my  utmost  endeavors  to 
detect  the  thief  and  recover  your  property  for  you.  But 
I  need  no  money  from  you." 

"  You  are  very  conscientious,  Mr.  Barnes,  and  I  admire 
it.  I  honor  a  man  who  places  his  duty  above  money." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  courteous  remark.  Now,  if  I  am 
to  help  you,  you  must  begin  by  assisting  me." 

"  I  will  do  whatever  I  can,  certainly." 

"  Then  tell  me,  have  you  no  suspicion  as  to  who  might 
have  taken  your  jewel  ?  "  The  girl  hesitated,  and  the 
detective  watched  her  face  keenly.  As  she  did  not  reply 
at  once,  he  asked  another  question. 

"  Did  you  feel  the  person  take  the  pin  from  your  hair  ? ' 

"  Yes,  I  did,  but  I  did  not  realize  what  was  occurring 
till  he  had  it !  " 

"Why  did  you  not  make  any  resistance,  or  cry  out  ? " 

Again  she  hesitated,  but  in  a  moment  she  said  firmly  : 

"  I  know  that  you  have  a  right  to  ask  me  these  ques- 
tions, and  I  will  reply  to  them  if  you  insist  upon  it.  But 
first  tell  me,  would  it  be  right  for  me  to  call  a  name  to 
you,  as  one  that  I  may  have  suspected,  when  I  had  but 
the  flimsiest  excuse  for  my  suspicion  ?  Might  I  not  thus 
do  more  harm  than  good  by  attracting  your  attention  to  a 
false  scent  ? " 

"  That  is  certainly  a  possibility,  Miss  Remsen,  but  it  is 


MR.    BARNES   RECEIVES   SEVERAL   LETTERS.  159 

one  which  I  am  inclined  to  risk.  I  mean  that  I  prefer  to 
trust  to  my  experience,  than  to  have  you  omit  to  tell  me 
your  suspicions." 

"  Very  well,  only  promise  me  that  you  will  not  jump  to 
conclusions,  and  thus  perhaps  annoy  the  person  whom  I 
shall  name." 

"  I  agree  to  that.  I  will  take  no  action  without  suffi- 
cient reason  other  than  that  furnished  by  yourself." 

"  Very  well.  You  asked  if  I  suspected  any  one,  and 
again  why  I  did  not  resist  the  thief.  If  you  will  remem- 
ber, my  head  was  bowed.  At  first  I  could  not  understand 
how  something  seemed  to  move  my  pin.  I  fancied  that 
it  had  become  entangled  in  the  Sultan's  robe.  Then  the 
clock  began  to  chime,  and  in  a  moment  it  flashed  across 
my  mind  that  perhaps  Mr.  Mitchel  was  taking  my  pin,  in 
order  to  win  his  wager.  Therefore  I  said  nothing.  This 
makes  my  action  clear  to  you  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  Mr.  Mitchel 
did  not  tell  you  in  advance  that  he  would  do  this  ? " 

"  No,  he  did  not,  and  that  is  why  I  have  sent  for  you." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Why,  all  the  time  that  I  thought  he  had  the  pin  I  was 
not  worried.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  act  indignation  at 
the  festival.  That  was  partly  for  your  edification  and 
mystification.  I  wanted  to  help  Mr.  Mitchel's  plan.  But 
when  it  occurred  to  me  yesterday  that  Mr.  Mitchel,  if  he 
had  meant  to  take  the  pin,  would  have  told  me  in  advance, 
I  saw  at  once  that  my  first  idea  was  wrong,  and  that  my 
ruby  is  really  gone.  Then  I  wrote  to  you." 


l6o  'AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  Then  you  feel  sure  that  he  would  have  told  you  in 
advance?" 

"  Positive." 

"  May  he  not  have  feared  to  ask  you  to  implicate  your- 
self in  a  robbery,  and  possible  scandal  ?  You  know  he 
was  liable  to  arrest,  and  it  might  be  a  considerable  time 
before  he  could  have  proven  that  his  theft  was  only 
a  joke.  He  may  have  wished  to  spare  you  notoriety." 

"  He  knows  me  better  than  that."  She  said  this  with  a 
smile. 

"  How  better  ?  "  asked  the  detective. 

"  I  mean  that  he  knows  there  is  nothing  that  I  would 
not  risk  for  him,  since  I  have  consented  to  give  him 
myself.  I  am  one  of  those  women,  Mr.  Barnes,  who  are 
not  easily  deterred  from  aiding  the  man  of  her  choice." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  would  be  willing  to  share  un- 
enviable notoriety  with  him,  and  that  he  knew  this  ?  " 

"  I  do,  and  therefore  feel  confident  that  he  would  have 
asked  my  assistance  if  it  had  been  his  intention  to  take 
my  pin." 

"Just  as  he  did  on  another  occasion  ?  "  The  detective 
had  been  leading  her  up  to  this  for  the  last  few  moments, 
and  now  watched  to  see  the  effect.  She  did  not  change 
countenance,  but  simply  said  : 

"  What  occasion  ?  " 

"  The  morning  when  he  locked  your  maid  in  this  room, 
whilst  you  went  down-town  and  took  a  little  girl  from  one 
house  to  another  ? " 

"To  what  other?"      This  was    a   hard  one    for  the 


MR.    BARNES    RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.  l6l 

detective,  and  as  he  did  not  reply  she  smiled  aggravatingly, 
as  she  continued  : 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  have  no  proof  of  your  assertion. 
You  suspect  that  I  did  what  you  say,  but  you  do  not 
know  it.  As  I  told  you  just  now,  it  is  possible  for  a  bare 
suspicion  to  lead  one  astray." 

"  Perhaps,  but  I  do  not  think  that  I  am  far  wrong  in 
this  instance." 

"  We  will  not  discuss  it.  Let  us  return  to  the  ruby. 
You  told  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  so  he  tells  me,  that  you 
knew  in  advance  that  this  crime  was  about  to  occur. 
Did  you  know  the  person  who  would  take  the  pin  ? " 

"  To  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  Miss  Remsen,  I  ex- 
pected that  Mr.  Mitchel  would  take  it.  I  think  now  that 
he  did  take  it.  Do  you  wish  me  to  continue  the  in- 
vestigation ?  It  may  lead  to  your  friend's  losing  his  wager, 
whereas  you  have  the  right  to  notify  the  police  that  youi 
gem  has  been  returned  to  you.  That  would  make  our 
work  on  the  case  useless,  and  assure  him  of  winning 
his  bet." 

Mr.  Barnes's  object  here  was  ingenious.  He  thought 
that  if  the  girl  accepted  his  suggestion,  he  would 
thus  be  assured  that  she  still  suspected  Mr.  Mitchel. 
Thus  he  would  reach  her  true  opinion  of  the  case.  Her 
answer  was. 

"  I  cannot  do  that.  It  would  certainly  be  to  give  up 
my  hope  of  recovering  the  stone.  I  am  sure  that  Mr. 
Mitchel  has  not  taken  it.  If  I  am  wrong,  and  he  has 
done  so  without  trusting  me,  why  then  he  has  made  a 


162  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

mistake,  and  must  suffer  by  it.  I  am  sure,  however,  it 
will  prove  otherwise.  So  do  the  best  you  can,  if 
you  please." 

"  You  may  rely  upon  it  that  my  best  energies  shall  be 
devoted  to  this  work.  I  wish  you  good-morning." 

About  six  o'clock  that  same  afternoon,  Mr.  Barnes  sent 
his  card  up  to  Mr.  Mitchel,  at  the  Lafayette,  in  Phila- 
delphia. A  few  minutes  later  he  was  shown  into  that 
gentleman's  room,  and  found  him  in  bed. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  Mr.  Barnes.  You  are  very 
kind  to  come  and  see  me,  For  doing  so,  I  am  almost 
willing  to  forgive  you  for  the  wrong  which  you  have 
done  me." 

"  Wrong  ?  What  wrong  ? " 

"  Do  you  remember  the  day  you  came  to  see  me  at  the 
Fifth  Avenue,  about  the  button  which  you  had  found  ? 
You  asked  me  to  show  you  the  seventh  of  my  own  set.  I 
agreed  on  condition  that  you  would  not  annoy  the  lady." 

"  Well ! " 

"  You  broke  your  promise — that  is  all." 

"  In  what  way  ? " 

"  In  the  first  place  you  bribed  her  maid  to  tell  her  a 
lie,  and  leave  her,  so  that  one  of  your  spies  could  take  her 
place.  Secondly,  your  spy  did  take  her  place.  The 
result  of  which  was  that  Miss  Remsen  could  not  re- 
engage her  old  maid,  and  has  had  much  trouble  to  get 
another  as  good." 

"  I  did  not  foresee,  when  I  made  that  promise,  that  such 
an  emergency  would  arise  as  did  later." 


MR.    BARNES   RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.          163 

"  Very  true  !  But  I  did,  and  I  warned  you  that  you 
would  gain  nothing  by  making  the  promise,  since  you 
would  only  find  my  own  story  verified  by  your  visit." 

"  Well,  I  am  very  sorry,  and  will  say  that  it  shall  not 
occur  again." 

"  But,  Mr.  Barnes,  it  has  occurred  again." 

"How  so?" 

"  Why,  she  cannot  leave  her  home  at  any  time,  without 
being  dogged  by  your  spies." 

Mr.  Barnes  bit  his  lip  in  chagrin  to  find  how  well  this 
man  was  acquainted  with  his  plans,  but  he  replied 
unhesitatingly, 

"  This  time  you  are  wrong.  I  promised  you  not  to  annoy 
Miss  Remsen  in  connection  with  the  particular  case  of 
which  we  were  then  speaking.  My  men  have  shadowed 
her  in  connection  with  another  affair." 

"  What  other  affair  ? " 

"  Abduction." 

"  Abduction  ?  Absurd  !  Who  on  earth  has  Miss  Rem- 
sen abducted  ? " 

"  The  girl  Rose  Mitchel." 

;*  And  who,  pray,  is  the  girl  Rose  Mitchel  ?  The  daugh- 
ter of  the  murdered  woman  ? " 

"  Perhaps.  That  is  what  I  intend  to  discover.  She 
passed  however,  as  your  daughter." 

"  Ah  !  Now  can  you  prove  that  she  is  not  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Very  good.  Then,  so  far  as  your  information  goes, 
Rose  Mitchel  who  passed  as  my  daughter,  was  removed 


164  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

from  a  certain  house,  to  a  certain  other  house,  to  you  un- 
known." He  paused  a  moment  as  though  to  enjoy  Mr. 
Barnes's  discomfiture,  then  continued  :  "  She  was  taken, 
so  you  suspect,  but  cannot  prove,  by  Miss  Remsen.  Now, 
then,  if  Miss  Remsen,  my  affianced  wife,  takes  a  girl  who 
is  my  own  child  from  one  house  to  another,  where  is  the 
abduction  so  long  as  I  make  no  complaint  ?  " 

"  Let  us  drop  this  nonsense,  Mr.  Mitchel.  You  know 
very  well  that  that  child  was  removed  for  a  purpose,  else 
she  would  not  be  hidden  away.  If  Miss  Remsen  had  a 
hand  in  this,  she  was  aiding  you  to  baffle  detective  inves- 
tigation, and  that  was  an  illegal  act.  Therefore  we  have 
the  right  to  watch  her,  in  order  to  discover  what  we  can." 

"Very  well,  then  we  will  grant  you  that  privilege. 
Much  good  may  it  do  you.  But  as  to  the  removal  of  the 
child,  that  was  done  because  your  spy  Lucette  had  dis- 
covered where  she  was,  and  I  did  not  choose  to  have  her 
annoyed." 

"  What  makes  you  so  certain  that  this  Lucette  was  my 
spy,  as  you  term  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that,  though  perhaps  I 
am  showing  my  hand  a  little.  Let  us  go  to  the  beginning. 
In  the  first  place  you  knew  about  my  bet,  and  I  knew  that 
you  knew  that  much.  From  that  starting-point  what  more 
natural  than  for  me  to  suppose  that  you  would  begin  by 
having  me  shadowed.  To  be  sure  of  this,  I  made  a  few 
trips  on  the  elevated  road,  a  structure  peculiarly  applica- 
ble for  such  a  test,  with  the  result  of  course  that  I  soon 
became  pretty  well  acquainted  with  your  assistant.  When- 


MR.    BARNES   RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.  165 

ever  I  had  nothing  else  to  do,  I  would  amuse  myself  get- 
ting away  from  him.  You  gave  me  occupation  for  several 
hours  I  assure  you.  But  to  come  to  Lucette.  I  guessed 
that  the  next  step  in  your  game  would  be  to  supply  spy 
number  two,  who  would  take  up  the  trail  wherever  spy 
number  one  would  lose  it.  I  began  to  look  for  this  sec- 
ond man.  See,  I  admit  that  I  did  not  count  upon  a  woman. 
You  beat  me  there,  or  almost  did.  I  don't  suppose  you 
told  the  girl  to  let  me  see  her  face,  eh  ? "  Mr.  Barnes 
made  no  reply,  though  to  himself  he  said,  "  Just  as  I  told 
the  fool."  Mr.  Mitchel  went  on  :  "At  last  one  day,  just 
as  I  was  getting  on  a  train,  a  smart-looking  young  woman 
came  out  of  the  waiting-room  and  followed  me  aboard. 
Purely  from  habit  I  walked  through  the  train  to  the  first 
coach.  I  ride  in  that  because  it  is  the  coolest  in  summer 
and  the  least  draughty  in  winter.  Now  there  were  several 
cross  seats  empty  in  the  coaches  through  which  I  passed, 
and  as  the  young  woman  behind  me  did  not  take  one,  but 
followed  me  through  the  train,  I  became  suspicious. 
When  she  sat  down  opposite  to  me,  of  course  I  studied  her 
face.  I  hardly  ever  forget  a  face  after  I  have  made  a 
mental  note  of  it.  The  rest  was  simple.  She  was  sharp 
enough  not  to  get  off  the  train  when  I  did,  and  I  dis- 
missed her  from  my  mind.  Thus  I  suppose  she  was 
enabled  to  follow  me  to  the  Irving  Place  house.  But  of 
course  I  recognized  her  at  once  when  I  saw  her  at  Miss 
Remsen's." 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  that  this  Rose  Mitchel 
is  your  daughter  ? " 


l66  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  understood,  but  I  did  not  say 
so.  I  spoke  of  her  just  as  you  did,  '  Rose  Mitchel,  who 
passed  as  my  daughter.'  " 

"  Well,  then,  is  she  your  daughter  ? " 

"I  decline  to  answer." 

"  Why  do  you  do  so  ? " 

"  I  must  decline  to  reply  to  that  also." 

"  Do  you  not  see,  Mr.  Mitchel,  you  are  simply  making 
your  actions  more  and  more  suspicious  ?  " 

"My  dear  Mr.  Barnes,  I  do  not  care  a  straw  how 
much  suspicion  I  arouse,  so  long  as  I  am  not  confronted 
by  any  proof.  Whenever  you  think  you  have  any  proof 
against  me,  come  to  me  and  I  will  endeavor  to  refute 
it." 

"  Very  well.  You  have  asked  me  to  discover  who  stole 
Miss  Remsen's  ruby.  I  have  already  done  so." 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  a  genius.     Who  is  it  ?  " 

"Yourself." 

"  Bosh  !  Can't  you  do  better  than  that  ?  Why,  I  have 
been  sick  abed  here  for  over  three  days." 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  you  are  caught  this  time.  You  were 
not  sick  abed  here  at  the  time  of  the  robbery.  On 
the  contrary  you  went  over  to  New  York,  attended  the 
festival,  and  took  the  ruby  pin  from  Miss  Remsen's  hair." 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  laboring  under  a  delusion.  I 
tell  you  I  have  been  in  this  room  since  December 
3oth." 

"  One  of  my  men  followed  you  to  this  place.  On  the 
night  of  the  ist,  he  registered  at  this  hotel,  being  as- 


MR.    BARNES   RECEIVES   SEVERAL    LETTERS.  167 

signed  to  the  room  next  to  this.  He  picked  the  lock  of 
the  communicating  door,  and  came  in  here,  thus  discov- 
ering your  absence." 

"Very  clever  idea,  I  am  sure.  The  fellow  deserves 
credit.  But  did  he  tell  you  which  communicating  door  he 
came  through  ? " 

Mr.  Barnes  looked  around  and  was  amazed  to  find 
that  the  only  door  in  the  room  opened  on  the  hall.  The 
story  told  by  his  man  was  thus  an  impossibility.  A 
thought  came  to  him  quickly  and  he  said  : 

"  You  have  changed  to  another  room  since  then.  You 
were  at  that  time  in  No.  234." 

"  And  this  is  number  342,  a  floor  higher  up.  But  you 
are  wrong  ;  I  have  not  changed  my  room.  I  will  explain 
how  your  man  has  made  this  mistake.  I  knew  when  I 
came  here  that  your  spy  had  probably  followed  me.  I 
was  tired  of  the  espionage.  This  is  what  I  did.  I  regis- 
tered and  was  given  number  234.  I  was  shown  to  the 
room  and  at  once  sent  for  the  clerk.  When  he  came  up 
I  asked  for  another  room,  and  desired  him  not  to  make 
any  change  on  the  register,  as  I  had  an  inquisitive  friend 
who  would  not  hesitate  to  walk  right  up  if  he  knew  what 
room  I  was  in.  I  explained  that  I  wished  to  avoid  him. 
My  request  was  granted.  I  suppose  your  man  asked  for 
a  room  near  that  of  his  "  friend  Mr.  Mitchel."  The 
clerk  at  once  thought  him  to  be  the  man  whom  I  wished 
to  avoid,  and  gave  him  a  room  next  to  234,  which  of 
course  satisfied  him,  and  I  am  sure  pleased  me  as 
well." 


l68  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  supremely  disgusted,  especially  as, 
during  the  interview,  he  had  become  thoroughly  satisfied 
that  Mr.  Mitchel  was  really  sick  and  troubled  with  a  bad 
cough.  He  returned  to  New  York  puzzled. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

fHE   HISTORY    OF    THE   RUBY. 

BURIN***  ih1?  next  two  weeks  there  were  numerous 
references  to  the  ruby  robbery  in  the  daily  papers.  Inter- 
views  were  published  purporting  to  have  been  held  with 
every  one  of  note  who  had  been  present.  The  police 
were  twitted  with  their  inability  to  discover  the  thief. 
The  detectives  from  the  central  office  came  and  went 
mysteriously,  and  were  silent  to  all  questioners,  the  while 
maintaining  an  expression  which  plainly  said,  "  We  could 
an*  if  we  would."  One  or  two  persons  were  even  arrest- 
ed, only  to  be  promptly  discharged  when  brought  before 
the  committing  magistrates.  So  that  interest  in  the  affair 
soon  died  out.  Another  crime  occurred,  and  all  New 
York  had  something  else  to  talk  of.  The  Remsen  ruby 
was  forgotten  by  the  masses. 

Mr.  Barnes,  however,  thought  of  little  else.  He  racked 
his  brain  for  a  promising  starting-point,  and  the  more  he 
thought,  the  more  he  was  tempted  to  make  a  trip  to  New 
Orleans,  to  unravel  this,  as  he  had  many  other  mysteries, 
"  from  the  other  end."  Yet  he  hated  to  leave  the  scene 
where  were  the  chief  actors  in  the  drama,  and,  as  he  felt 
certain,  the  principal  in  one  or  all  of  the  crimes.  At  last 
he  resolved  to  make  a  move,  hoping  little  from  it,  yet 


170  AN   ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

unwilling  longer  to  rest  actually  idle  in  this  case.     Hi 
wrote  the  following  letter  : 

"  MR.  ARTHUR  RANDOLPH  : 

"  DEAR  SIR — Since  you  have  engaged  me  to  under- 
take to  prove  that  Mr.  Mitchel  himself  stole  the  ruby  on 
the  night  of  the  festival,  I  presume  that  you  will  consent 
to  give  me  some  assistance  in  the  matter.  In  the  first 
interview  that  I  had  with  you  you  may  recall  that  you 
stated  that  your  friend,  in  your  opinion,  is  somewhat 
insane  on  the  subject  of  celebrated  jewels.  You  said,  in 
effect,  that  if  he  were  pressed  a  little  on  this  line  he  would 
drift  off  into  the  narration  of  tales  of  gems  and  crimes 
committed  to  obtain  them.  I  would  much  like  to  hear 
Mr.  Mitchel  talk  upon  his  hobby,  but,  as  you  know,  he  is 
on  the  defensive  with  me.  Can  you  in  some  way  arrange 
to  have  a  talk  with  him  yourself  and  draw  him  out,  whilst 
I  should  be  secreted  where  I  could  overhear  the  conver- 
sation ?  I  should  wish  you  to  mention  the  loss  of  the 
ruby,  to  suggest,  if  not  charge  outright,  that  he  himself 
has  taken  the  gem  ;  and  when  he  denies  it,  as  he  surely 
will,  ask  him  whether  there  is  any  peculiar  story  con- 
nected with  it — that  is,  whether  it  has  ever  been  stolen 
before.  From  such  a  conversation  I  might  get  a  hint, 
which,  seeming  as  nothing  to  you,  might  be  valuable  to 
me.  Will  you  do  this  ?  Remember  you  yourself  said 
that '  all  is  fair,'  etc. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  J.  BARNES." 


THE   HISTORY    OF    THE    RUBV.  171 

In  reply  to  this  he  received  a  note  asking  him  to  meet 
Mr.  Randolph  at  his  club  on  the  following  evening. 

The  next  afternoon  Mr.  Mitchel  called  at  the  Hoffman 
House  and  went  up  to  the  room  occupied  by  Mr.  Thauret, 
finding  that  gentleman  at  home.  Mr.  Thauret  advanced 
to  meet  him,  and  the  two  shook  hands  cordially. 

"  Thauret,"  began  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you 
seriously  about  that  jewel  robbery." 

"  I  am  all  attention,"  said  Mr.  Thauret,  lighting  a  ciga- 
rette and  dropping  into  a  comfortable  rocking-chair. 

"  To  begin  with,  let  me  recapitulate.  I  will  go  back 
to  our  partnership  arrangement.  You  and  I  became,  in 
a  way,  secret  partners,  or,  perhaps,  '  gambling  pals '  would 
be  more  accurate.  At  that  time  I  agreed  to  furnish  the 
capital  for  our  operations  up  to  a  certain  point.  I  believe 
I  have  done  so,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  our  losses  have 
been  rather  heavy,  and  the  further  fact  that  you  confiden- 
tially told  me  that  you  had  a  method,  or  a  system,  by 
which  losses  could  be  avoided,  or  at  least  controlled. 
Am  I  accurate  ?  " 

"  Quite  so,  my  friend.  You  have  proven  yourself  an 
admirable  silent  partner,  since  you  have  allowed  me  to 
have  my  own  way,  paying  the  bills  and  asking  no  ques- 
tions, till  now.  Am  I  to  understand  that  the  losses  annoy 
you,  and  that  you  wish  an  explanation  ?  " 

"  You  may  give  me  one  in  a  moment.  There  is  another 
point.  You  promised  to  drop  Adrian  Fisher." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  You  have  not  done  so.      I  requested  you  to  wear  the 


17*  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

All  Baba  costume  the  other  night,  and  yet  you  chose  to 
give  it  to  Fisher.  Why  was  that  ?  " 

"It  will  be  more  simple  to  explain  about  the  losses  first, 
and  come  to  Fisher  later.  As  you  perhaps  know,  that 
detective  Barnes  has  chosen  to  place  a  spy  at  my  heels. 
Under  the  circumstances,  I  thought  it  wise  to  play  the 
spy  upon  my  spy.  Several  times  I  have  gone  to  the  club, 
and  then  placed  myself  where  I  could  watch  my  man.  In 
this  way  I  soon  discovered  that  he  had  become  intimate 
with  one  of  the  club  servants.  One  day  I  called  this  fel- 
low, and  partly  by  threatening  to  have  him  discharged, 
but  mainly  by  using  money,  I  got  out  of  him  what  the 
detective  was  asking  about  me.  This  was  chiefly  whether 
I  lose  or  win  when  I  play  cards.  I  found  that  the  result 
of  every  game  that  I  played  was  being  reported.  Con- 
sequently after  that  I  made  it  a  rule  to  lose." 

"  To  lose  my  money  !  " 

"  To  lose  our  money,  since  we  are  partners.  You  art 
simply  advancing  the  funds  til!  I  get  remittances  from 
Paris.  You  have  my  I.O.U's.  If  you  are  tired  of  the 
arrangement,  I  will  pay  you  at  once,  though  it  would  be 
inconvenient." 

"  No,  the  money  is  of  no  consequence.  But  tell  me, 
why  did  you  think  it  best  to  lose  ?  " 

"  It  is  very  simple.  From  the  fact  that  the  detectives 
are  investigating  this  point,  it  is  evident  that  they  had 
heard  of  the  winnings  which  I  made  when  Fisher  played 
with  me.  They  may  have  concluded  that  I  am  a  card 
sharper.  I  wish  to  dispel  that  idea." 


THE   HISTORY    OF    THE    RUBY.  173 

"  Naturally.  But  now  tell  me  about  Fisher.  What  has 
this  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  As  you  know,  I  did  not  design  to  attend  the  festival. 
You  went  to  Philadelphia,  were  taken  ill,  and  sent  me  a 
letter  asking  me  to  take  your  place,  and  wear  your  dress, 
which  I  was  to  obtain  by  presenting  your  note  to  the 
costumer.  I  did  this,  fully  intending  to  carry  out  your 
wishes." 

"  Then  how  was  it  that  Fisher  wore  my  costume  ?  " 
"  I  am  coming  to  that.  Just  before  leaving  for  the  af- 
fair, who  should  call  here  but  the  costumer,  who  informed 
me  that  a  man  had  been  to  his  place,  and  had  catechised 
him  about  me,  explaining  that  he  was  a  detective  hunting 
down  a  celebrated  criminal.  He  showed  the  fellow  your 
note.  Afterwards  he  regretted  having  done  so,  and  came 
to  notify  me,  as  he  expressed  it,  '  so  that  I  might  not  get 
into  any  trouble.'  I  saw  at  once  that  this  meant  that 
Barnes  would  be  at  the  festival,  or,  at  any  rate,  one  of  his 
men." 

"  You  were  right  in  that.  He  was  there." 
"  Yes,  but  I  was  not  sure  of  it  till  after  the  robbery, 
when  all  unmasked.  He  wore  one  of  the  Forty  Thieves 
dominos,  and  I  failed  to  see  through  the  disguise.  With 
the  knowledge  thus  obtained,  I  determined  to  have  some 
amusement  at  the  expense  of  your  great  detective,  and 
decided  to  wear  one  of  the  dominos  instead  of  your  dress. 
It  was  essential,  however,  that  some  one  should  imper- 
sonate Ali  Baba  in  order  that  the  tableaux  might  not  be 
interrupted.  Fisher  was  the  only  man  I  could  ask  to 


174  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

assume  the  r&le.  He  acquiesced,  and  that  is  all  there  was 
to  that.  I  have  not  taken  him  up  again,  I  assure  you." 

"  Very  good.  That  is  satisfactory.  You  must  pardon 
my  questioning  ;  but  after  all,  I  did  not  understand,  and 
had  a  right  to  do  so.  Tell  me,  were  you  near  when  the 
robbery  occurred  ?  Did  you  see  it  done  ?  " 

"  I  must  have  been  near,  but  I  did  not  see  it.  I  was 
awaiting  to  kiss  the  hand  of  the  Scheherezade  when  Mr. 
Barnes  suddenly  cried  out  that  a  robbery  had  been  com- 
mitted, and  ordered  masks  off.  I  slipped  out  of  my 
domino,  and  went  to  him  as  soon  as  the  lights  were  on." 

"  You  might  have  suggested  to  him  to  search  everybody, 
as  he  did  on  the  train." 

"  By  George  !  that  is  just  what  I  did,  but  he  declined. 
I  guess  that  train  experience  made  him  dubious  as  to  the 
value  of  that  sort  of  thing." 

At  this  both  men  laughed  heartily,  as  though  enjoying 
the  discomfiture  of  the  detective. 

"  It  seems,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  that  Barnes  suspected 
that  the  ruby  was  to  be  stolen,  and  informed  Mr.  Rawlston 
early  in  the  evening  that  there  would  be  thieves  in  the 
audience." 

"  Did  he,  indeed  ?  Too  bad  that,  with  all  his  shrewd- 
ness, he  was  not  able  to  catch  the  thief,  or  thieves 
rather,  eh  ? " 

Once  more  they  both  laughed.  Then  Mr.  Mitchel  sug- 
gested that  they  should  go  to  the  club,  and  thither  they 
went.  Upon  entering,  the  doorkeeper  informed  Mr. 
Mitchel  that  Mr.  Randolph  was  in  the  parlor  and  desired 


THE   HISTORY   OF   THE  RUBY.  175 

to  see  him.  He  and  Mr.  Thauret  therefore  went  into  the 
great  reception-room.  Mr.  Randolph  arose  as  they 
appeared. 

"  Good-evening,  Randolph,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel.  "  You 
wish  to  see  me  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing  special.  I  came  in  to  dine  here,  and  told 
the  doorman  to  send  you  to  me  in  case  you  should  turn 
up.  I  wanted  company,  that  is  all." 

"  Don't  like  to  eat  alone,  eh  ? " 

"  That  is  it.  Eating  is  a  nuisance,  made  tolerable  only 
by  good  companionship.  Mr.  Thauret,  shall  I  have  a 
place  set  for  you,  also  ? " 

"  If  you  desire,  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Randolph.  "  I  will  attend  to  it. 
I  have  some  letters  to  write  now,  if  you  will  excuse  me. 
Meet  rne  promptly  at  seven  in  the  private  dining-room." 

Mr.  Randolph  left  the  apartment,  and  went  to  the  floor 
above.  Here  he  joined  Mr.  Barnes,  who  was  awaiting  him. 

"  Well,"  said  the  detective,  "  can  you  manage  it  ? " 

"  Everything  is  arranged.  Mitchel  is  here,  and  he  has 
brought  Thauret  with  him.  I  don't  understand  the 
intimacy  that  has  sprung  up  between  those  two,  but  that 
is  not  to  the  point.  They  will  dine  with  me  in  our  private 
dining-room.  I  shall  arrange  that  our  meal  shall  be 
served  at  a  table  immediately  next  to  the  large  portfire 
that  separates  the  private  dining-room  from  the  main 
saloon.  I  shall  also  order  a  dinner  for  you  at  a  table 
just  on  the  other  side  of  the  curtain.  If  you  have  good 
ears,  you  should  hear  all  that  passes  with  little  difficulty." 


j;6  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  I  am  satisfied  with  your  arrangement  and  shall  un. 
doubtedly  be  able  to  hear  at  least  the  greater  part  of 
what  occurs." 

"  Very  well.  Now  go  to  the  library,  and  at  the  farther 
end,  hidden  behind  a  newspaper  file,  you  will  be  safe 
from  the  observation  of  prying  eyes.  Promptly  at  seven, 
I  and  my  guests  will  take  our  seats.  Five  minutes  later 
your  own  place  will  be  in  readiness,  and  you  can  take  it 
in  safety." 

Mr.  Barnes  followed  these  instructions,  and  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph went  to  the  dining-room  to  perfect  his  arrange- 
ments. At  seven,  on  the  minute,  he  was  joined  by  his 
invited  guests,  and  the  three  sat  at  table.  Shortly  after 
the  noise  of  dishes  on  the  other  side  of  the  portiere  in- 
dicated that  Mr.  Barnes  was  being  served. 

About  the  third  course  Mr.  Randolph  endeavored  to 
lead  the  conversation  in  the  desired  direction. 

"  I  trust "  said  he,  addressing  Mitchel,  "  that  you  have 
entirely  recovered  from  that  unfortunate  illness  that  pre- 
vented you  from  attending  the  affair  at  Rawlston's." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mitchel,  "  it  was  but  a  temporary 
matter.  The  only  serious  result  was  that  I  was  kept 
from  the  festival.  I  think  I  might  have  saved  Miss  Rem- 
sen  from  the  annoyance  of  losing  her  ruby." 

"  But,  Mitchel,"  said  Mr.  Randolph,  "  whilst  of  course 
one  does  not  like  to  lose  so  valuable  a  gem,  at  the  same 
time  you  can  safely  replace  it." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"Why,  you  have  so  many  jewels.     Do  you  know  I  was 


THE    HISTORY    OF   THE    RUBY.  177 

saying  only  recently  that  any  one  who,  like  you,  would 
hoard  up  rare  gems,  keeping  them  locked  in  a  vault 
where  no  one  can  see  them,  is  in  a  way  insane.  I  was 
glad  when  you  gave  that  ruby  to  Miss  Remsen,  and  took 
it  as  a  symptom  of  returning  lucidity  that  you  should 
unearth  one  of  your  hidden  treasures.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  you  have  others  like  it  buried  in  some  corner  of 
your  safe.  Why  not  get  one  out  and  present  it  to  the 
lady  ?  " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Randolph.  I  cannot  so  easily  pro- 
duce a  mate  to  that  ruby." 

"  Why  not  ?  Was  there  anything  peculiar  about  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  we  will  not  talk  of  it." 

This  curt  way  of  dismissing  the  subject  was  a  surprise 
to  Mr.  Randolph,  for,  however  little  Mr.  Mitchel  cared  to 
show  his  gems,  he  had  never  before  been  unwilling  to 
embrace  any  opportunity  to  talk  about  them.  Mr.  Ran* 
dolph  started  in  a  new  direction,  remembering  the  hints 
of  the  detective. 

"  Mitchel,"  said  he,  "  I  would  almost  be  willing  to 
wager  that  you  not  only  can  give  Miss  Remsen  as  good  a 
ruby,  but  that  you  could  actually  give  her  the  same  one." 

"  I  hope  to  do  so,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"  You  don't  understand  me.  I  mean  that  I  half  be- 
lieve that  your  sickness  in  Philadelphia  was  all  a  farce  ; 
that  you  came  over,  and  yourself  stole  the  gem." 

"  Indeed  ?  And  what  leads  you  to  such  a  preposterous 
deduction  ? " 

"  I  tbink  that  this  is  your  way  of  endeavoring  to  win 


178  AN    ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

your  wager.  I  think  that  no  one  but  yourself  could 
have  taken  the  pin  from  Miss  Remsen's  hair,  as  for  no 
one  else  would  she  have  submitted." 

"  Randolph,  your  repeated  allusions  to  Miss  Remsen, 
in  this  connection,  and  especially  your  insinuation  that 
I  would  ask  her  to  be  an  accomplice  in  such  a  piece  of 
duplicity,  and  that  she  would  consent,  are  distasteful  to 
me  in  the  extreme.  If  you  will  pardon  my  saying  so,  it 
is  a  poor  entertainment  to  offer  a  guest." 

"  Oh,  I  meant  no  offence,  old  man,  I  assure  you.  We 
will  drop  the  subject  of  course." 

This  was  followed  by  a  silence.  Mr.  Randolph  was  at 
his  wits'  end  to  find  a  way  to  force  Mr.  Mitchel  to  talk. 
He  felt  that  nothing  had  been  accomplished.  Mr.  Barnes, 
however,  thought  differently,  for  he  had  at  last  come  to 
a  positive  conclusion.  From  Mr.  Mitchel's  tone  of  voice 
and  the  words  of  his  last  speech,  the  detective  felt  certain 
that  whatever  part  Mr.  Mitchel  himself  may  have  played 
in  the  robbery  Miss  Remsen  was  innocent.  He  also 
wondered  whether  the  conversation  would  now  drift  back 
to  the  ruby.  Perhaps  it  would  not  have  done  so  had  not 
Mr.  Thauret,  who  up  to  this  point  had  scarcely  spoken 
during  the  progress  of  the  meal,  once  more  broached 
the  subject. 

"I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  he,  "but  your  re- 
mark just  now,  that  there  is  something  special  about  the 
lost  ruby,  has  greatly  excited  my  curiosity.  Unless  you 
have  some  private  reason  for  not  doing  so,  I  beg  that  you 
will  tell  us  the  history  of  the  gem,  if  it  has  one." 


THE   HISTORY   OF   THE   RUBY.  179 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Mr.  Mitchel  looked 
at  his  plate  and  seemed  as  though  studying  a  problem. 
Mr.  Randolph  was  delighted  that  Mr.  Thau  ret  had  come 
to  his  assistance  in  this  unexpected  way,  and  as  he  ob- 
served Mr.  Mitchel's  hesitation  it  seemed  to  him  that 
there  was  a  contest  going  on  in  his  mind,  between  a 
powerful  desire  to  talk  on  his  hobby,  and  some  prudential 
whisper  that  silence  would  be  better.  The  detective  also 
waited  with  some  anxiety,  a  piece  of  a  sweetbread  on 
his  fork,  carried  but  half-way  to  his  mouth. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  at  last  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "I  will 

tell  you  the  story."     Mr.  Barnes  took  the  tidbit  from  his 
» 

fork  with  a  smile  that  showed  his  teeth  as  they  bit  it  in- 
cisively. "  First  join  me  in  a  glass,"  continued  Mr.  Mit- 
chel ;  "  drink  this  ruby-colored  wine  and  pledge  me  that 
you  will  not  repeat  what  I  say.  This  only  because  I  do 
not  wish  to  attain  the  unenviable  reputation  of  being  a 
romancer,  as  I  certainly  should  if  some  reporter  should 
hear  and  publish  the  story  now,  whilst  the  loss  of  the  gem 
is  fresh  in  the  memory  of  all  " 

The  pledge  was  given,  and  Mr.  Mitchel  continued. 

"  That  you  might  better  appreciate  this  stone,  I  might 
begin  with  a  dissertation  on  rubies,  explaining  to  you  the 
difference  between  the  true  Oriental  gem,  which  is  rare 
of  any  magnitude,  and  the  poorer  specimens,  known  as 
spinels.  However,  you  would  only  accuse  me  of  ventila- 
ting knowledge  which  has  come  to  me  through  the  study 
of  my  hobby.  I  will  come  at  once  to  the  story  of  the 
lost  jewel.  Just  where  it  was  first  found  is  not  accurately 


l8o  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

known,  and  of  its  earlier  history  I  can  only  tell  you  what 
has  been  told  to  me.  You  may  believe  as  much  or  as 
little  as  you  like.  The  history  then  begins  with  the  find- 
ing of  Moses  in  the  bulrushes,  and  the  subsequent  gift  to 
him  of  this  ruby  by  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh.  Thus  we 
hear  of  it  first  in  the  royal  house  of  the  Egyptians.  There 
was  another  gem,  the  exact  counterpart  to  it.  This, 
Pharaoh  had  amongst  his  treasures,  and  wore  upon  state 
occasions.  With  the  exodus  of  Moses  and  the  Israelites 
the  ruby  passed  out  of  Egypt.  From  that  time,  for  many 
centuries,  its  history  is  not  marked  by  any  great  event, 
save  that  we  learn  that  it  was  kept  by  the  high  priests  of 
the  Synagogue  and  so  passed  down  from  generation  to 
generation.  One  odd  fact  I  must  not  forget.  The  deep 
red  color  as  you  know  is  the  most  prized.  The  color 
of  this  ruby  at  the  present  time  is  the  most  perfect  in  ex- 
istence. Yet,  so  the  story  goes,  at  first  the  matched  pair 
of  gems  were  of  a  pale  rose  color." 

"  Do  you  mean  us  to  believe,"  interrupted  by  Mr. 
Randolph,  "  that  the  color  has  deepened  with  time  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  anything.  But  it  is  not 
time  that  is  supposed  to  have  improved  the  color.  With 
the  conquest  of  Jerusalem  this  jewel  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Romans,  and  so  in  time  came  into*the  possession 
of  Caesar.  In  his  courtship  of  Cleopatra  he  soon  dis- 
covered that  extraordinary  woman's  passion  for  resplen- 
dent jewels,  and  he  was  audacious  enough  to  present  it  to 
her.  Fearing  that  this  might  be  readily  traced  to  him, 
when  the  jewel  was  missed  as  it  would  surely  be,  he  told 


THE   HISTORY   OF    THE   RUBY.  l8l 

her  secretly  of  his  purpose,  and  then  tied  it  about  the 
neck  of  a  pigeon,  which  flew  with  it  directly  to  the  palace 
of  Cleopatra,  who  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  bird  on  the 
roof-tops.  The  pigeon,  when  nearly  home,  was  attacked 
by  a  hawk  and  Cleopatra  ordered  one  of  her  archers  to 
slay  the  larger  bird  with  his  arrow.  This  the  man 
attempted,  but  struck  the  pigeon,  which  fell  bleeding  and 
dead  at  the  queen's  feet.  She  at  once  removed  the 
gem,  which  was  covered  with  blood  and  dyed  with  it  a 
rich  red." 

"  But,  Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  Mr.  Thauret,  "  surely  a  ruby 
could  not  absorb  blood  ?" 

"  It  is  the  history  of  the  gem."  Mr.  Mitchel  spoke  in 
so  odd  a  tone  that  one  almost  thought  that,  carried  away 
by  his  love  of  precious  stones,  he  had  imbibed  some  of 
the  superstition  connected  with  them.  He  spoke  as 
though  he  believed  the  tale.  Mr.  Barnes  began  to  under- 
stand better  what  Mr.  Randolph  had  meant  when  he  said 
that  perhaps  the  desire  to  possess  a  rare  stone  might 
tempt  this  gentleman  to  commit  a  crime.  Mr.  Mitchel 
continued  : 

"  I  need  not  follow  the  story  of  Cleopatra.  It  is  too 
well  known.  But  there  is  an  incident  that  has  not  been 
written  in  the  general  history  of  her  career.  There  was 
an  Egyptian  priest  who  was  madly  in  love  with  her,  and 
in  a  moment  of  impulse  he  dared  to  tell  her  of  his 
attachment  one  day  when  alone  with  her.  She  seemed 
slightly  amused  at  his  ardor,  and  asked  what  he,  a  poor 
priest,  could  offer  her,  who  had  rich  rulers  at  her  feet 


182  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

In  desperation  he  answered  that  he  could  give  his  life. 
The  Queen  laughed  and  said  :  '  That  is  mine  already.  But 
you  priests  claim  to  be  all-wise.  Find  me  the  mate  to 
my  great  ruby,  and  perhaps  I  will  listen  to  your  love 
pleadings.'  To  her  intense  surprise  the  man  replied  : 
'  That  I  could  do,  if  I  dared.  The  gem  which  you  have 
has  but  returned  to  its  proper  place.  It  was  once 
Pharaoh's.  He  also  had  the  mate  to  it,  which  from  him 
descended  through  kings  to  Rameses  the  Great.  It  is 
buried  in  his  coffin.'  '  Get  it  for  me,'  was  the  terse  reply 
of  Cleopatra,  given  now  as  a  command  rather  than  a 
request. 

"  In  fear  the  priest  went  into  the  pyramid  and  stole 
the  jewel.  When  he  presented  it  to  Cleopatra  she  cried 
out  at  him  :  '  What  fool's  trick  is  this  ?  Do  you  think  this 
pale  stone  a  match  to  mine  ? '  The  priest  explained  that 
hers  had  been  dyed  red  in  the  blood  of  the  pigeon.  '  Ah, 
so  ! '  she  replied  ;  '  then  this  one  shall  be  also  a  richer 
red.  You  promised  me  your  life  once.  I  claim  it,  and 
in  your  blood  this  stone  shall  be  steeped  till  it  matches 
the  other  in  color.'  She  carried  out  her  threat,  and  the 
two  stones  were  once  more  mates." 

"  What  an  absurdity  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Randolph. 

"  Do  not  say  so,"  said  Mr.  Thauret ;  "  we  cannot  tell 
what  may  happen  in  this  world." 

"The  next  change  of  owners  was  when  Cleopatra 
killed  herself.  One  of  her  handmaidens  stole  the  two 
rubies,  but  she  herself  was  taken  a  slave  to  Rome  and 
sold.  Her  purchaser  discovered  the  rubies,  took  them 


THE    HISTORY    OF    THE    RUBY.  183 

/rom  her,  and  then  secretly  murdered  her  lest  she  might 
tell  that  he  had  them.  From  this  time  on  they  have  gone 
by  the  name  of  '  The  Egyptian  Gems.'  I  need  not  give 
you  the  whole  list  of  robberies  and  murders  that  have 
been  connected  with  the  two  stones,  though  I  have  the 
written  record  complete,  with  names  of  all  the  victims. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  for  years  no  one  was  the  gainer  by 
getting  possession  of  them.  They  have  always  been 
impossible  to  sell,  until  I  bought  this  one,  which  is  the 
first  time  either  ever  was  offered  honestly  in  the  market. 
Before  this,  each  new  owner  had  obtained  the  jewels 
either  by  theft  or  murder,  and  dared  not  admit  that  he 
had  them.  Another  curious  thing  is  that  no  one  has  ever 
succeeded  in  hiding  the  jewels,  so  that  they  could  not  be 
found.  They  have  been  secreted  between  the  stones  of 
a  wall,  they  have  been  sewn  under  the  hide  of  an  ass, 
and  hidden  in  other  equally  obscure  places,  yet  always 
the  next  thief  has  found  and  taken  them." 

"Ah,  that  is  interesting,"  said  Mr.  Thauret.  "But 
tell  us  frankly,  since  we  are  pledged  not  to  repeat  what 
we  hear,  do  you  suppose  there  is  any  power  inherent  in 
the  stone  which  attracts  persons  to  their  discovery  ? " 

"  I  cannot  say,  but  that  is  one  of  the  claims.  This 
seems  to  be  substantiated  by  recent  events  too." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"Well,  my  usual  interest  in  large  gems  led  me  to 
police  head-quarters  when  that  woman  Rose  Mitchel 
was  killed  after  having  been  robbed.  The  jewels  you 
remember  had  been  quickly  recovered  and  are  still  in 


184  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

the  hands  of  the  police.  I  was  allowed  to  see  them, 
and  the  ruby  in  that  lot  is  undoubtedly  the  mate  to  mine." 

"  You  think  that  it  was  the  presence  of  that  stone 
which  led  to  the  discovery  by  the  police  of  the  satchel 
containing  the  jewels  ?  " 

Mr.  Thauret  seemed  much  interested,  but  Mr.  Mitchel 
merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  for  answer,  though  it  seemed 
plain  that  he  did  hold  that  opinion.  Mr.  Barnes 
wondered  whether  Mr.  Thauret's  interest  was  due  to  the 
fact  that,  having  stolen  the  jewels,  he  was  astonished  to 
hear  of  so  strange  an  explanation  of  their  recovery  from 
the  hotel  where  he  had  hidden  them.  Yet  the  man's  next 
words  seemed  to  dispel  such  an  idea.  He  said  : 

"  You  may  believe  in  that  sort  of  thing,  Mr.  Mitchel, 
but  I,  who  have  only  modern  ideas,  cannot  accept  any 
such  theory.  The  fact  that  the  stones  have  always  been 
discovered  when  hidden  has  led  those  who  know  the  his- 
tory to  mistake  a  chain  of  coincidences  for  evidence  of 
supernatural  power  within  the  stones  themselves.  I  think  I 
can  readily  account  for  the  series  of  hidings  and  findings." 

"  I  should  be  pleased  to  have  you  do  so,"  said  Mr. 
Mitchel. 

"  Have  you  never  read  Edgar  Poe's  tale,  the  one  where 
a  letter  is  stolen  and  hidden  ?  The  detectives  failed  to  find 
it,  though  it  was  in  plain  sight  all  the  time,  but  another 
man  did  find  it.  He  went  upon  the  correct  theory  that 
the  thief,  knowing  that  a  search  would  be  made,  and 
guessing  that  all  obscure  places  would  be  explored  first, 
would  hide  it  in  some  commonplace  manner.  He  visited 


THE   HISTORY   OF    THE    RUBY.  185 

the  apartments,  and  found  the  letter  in  the  letter-rack. 
Now  this  is  ingenious,  but  Mr.  Poe  here  gives  us  a  bit  of 
special  pleading  and  a  curious  anomaly  at  the  same  time. 
He  wished  to  show  that  an  obscure  corner  would  be  a 
bad  hiding-place,  and  so  worked  out  his  result.  At  the 
same  time  he  draws  a  skilful  thief  who  baffled  expert 
police,  and  yet  who  hid  his  letter  where  the  first  man  with 
brains  easily  found  it.  This  is  the  anomaly.  Where  the 
article  is  small,  as  is  the  case  with  this  lost  ruby,  there 
is  but  one  safe  place  for  the  thief  to  hide  his  stolen 
property." 

"And  that  place  is?"  asked  Mr.  Mitchel,  himself 
betraying  interest. 

"  Upon  his  own  person,  where  at  all  times  he  could  be 
on  the  alert  to  thwart  the  searching  committee." 

"  Ah,  you  are  forgetting,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  that 
idea  was  not  overlooked  by  Edgar  Poe.  In  the  tale,  the 
man  was  waylaid  by  officers  in  disguise,  who  bound  him 
and  then  searched  him.  If  the  letter  had  been  about 
him,  it  would  have  been  found." 

"  Not  at  all.  The  letter  was  placed  in  an  envelope, 
which  had  been  turned,  and  then  mailed  so  that  on  the 
reverse  it  received  the  postal  imprint.  This  foiled  the 
detectives  when  they  examined  the  letter-rack.  It  would 
have  fooled  them  in  exploring  his  pockets,  if  found  with 
other  letters  similarly  addressed.  On  the  other  hand,  had 
it  been  in  his  pocket,  the  man  who  finally  obtained  it 
could  not  have  done  so  by  creating  a  confusion  in  the 
street  which  attracted  the  man  to  the  window.  It  would 


l86  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

have  been  difficult  for  him  even  to  guess  that  it  was  in 
the  pocket.  Besides,  with  the  ruby  it  would  be  simple, 
since  it  is  an  article  that  can  be  disposed  of  at  a  moment's 
notice." 

"  Very  true,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  but "  Here  he 

paused  for  a  moment,  and  seemed  abstracted.  Quickly 
recovering,  he  said  :  "  What  was  I  saying  ?  I  have  lost  the 
thread  of  our  conversation." 

"  Mr.  Thauret  suggested  that  the  thief  could  keep  the 
ruby  about  him,"  replied  Mr.  Randolph. 

"Ah,  exactly.  Now  I  remember.  Well,  I  should 
say  that  it  would  be  a  hazardous  undertaking.  I  believe 
had  I  stolen  the  gem,  as,  by  the  way,  Randolph,  you  sug- 
gested, I  could  do  better  than  that." 

"Ah,"  said  Mr.  Randolph,  "  this  is  getting  interesting. 
Come,  tell  us  ;  how  should  you  hide  the  jewel,  supposing 
that  you  had  taken  it  ? " 

"  That  is  a  leading  question,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel.  "  I 
prefer  not  to  answer  it.  Walls  have  ears,  you  know." 
He  said  this  in  a  significant  way  that  made  Mr.  Randolph 
uncomfortable  for  a  moment.  Mr.  Mitchel  at  once  con- 
tinued :  "  I  will  say  this,  however,  that  the  thief,  whoever 
he  is,  cannot  profit  by  his  theft." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  Because  there  is  not  another  gem  in  existence  save 
those  two  which  are  so  absolutely  perfect  in  color.  In 
fact,  they  are  the  standards  by  which  rubies  are  valued. 
It  is  claimed  that  the  expression  'pigeon-blood  ruby' 
owes  its  existence  to  the  staining  of  one  of  these  gems  in 


THE   HISTORY    OF    THE   RUBY.  187 

the  manner  described.  Dealers  sometimes  cut  a  pigeon's 
throat  to  compare  the  blood  with  the  color  of  a  gem  being 
appraised.  The  significance  of  this  is,  that  the  stolen  gem 
cannot  be  sold  as  it  is,  because  it  would  be  recognized,  and 
I  have  notified  all  the  great  dealers  in  the  world  that  my 
'  Egyptian  Gem  '  has  been  stolen.  If  it  were  attempted 
to  have  it  cut  up,  the  lapidary  would  at  once  report  the 
matter,  as  the  reward  offered  by  me  is  greater  than  could 
be  earned  by  recutting  the  stone." 

"  Suppose  that  the  thief  himself  is  a  gem  cutter  ?  " 
asked  Thauret. 

"  Even  then  the  perfect  color  would  at  once  tell  the 
first  dealer  to  whom  he  applied  that  the  '  Egyptian  Gem  ' 
had  been  recut." 

"  The  thief  might  be  a  patient  man,  and  all  things  come 
to  him  who  waits,"  replied  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  True,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel.  "  But  mark  my  words,  the 
'  Egyptian  Gem '  will  not  be  sold  by  the  person  who  has 
it  now." 

"  Especially  if  that  person  is  yourself,"  said  Mr. 
Randolph. 

"  Just  so,"  answered  Mr.  Mitchel. 

The  conversation  now  drifted  to  other  things,  and 
shortly  after,  the  dinner  being  over,  the  three  men 
separated. 

As  Mr.  Barnes  was  about  to  leave  the  main  dining- 
room,  one  of  the  servants  handed  him  a  note.  Supposing 
it  to  be  from  Mr.  Randolph,  he  opened  it  at  once,  and 
was  surprised  and  chagrined  to  read  : 


1 88  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  When  Mr.  Barnes  next  plays  the  eavesdropper  he 
should  be  careful  to  observe  whether  a  mirror  reflects 
both  sides  of  a  portiere  which  he  might  suppose  would 
conceal  him. 

"  MITCHEL." 

"  The  devil  take  it,"  muttered  Mr.  Barnes.  "  I  wonder 
at  what  point  he  discovered  my  presence.  Was  that  last 
part,  about  his  having  warned  all  the  dealers,  thrown  in 
gratuitously  for  my  benefit,  and  to  lead  me  to  suppose 
that  some  one  else  stole  the  stone  ?  If  so,  why  does  he 
now  let  me  know  that  he  saw  me  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH. 

MR.  BARNES  now  began  some  researches  into  the  past 
history  of  Mr.  Alphonse  Thauret.  Obtaining  the  date 
of  his  first  registry  at  the  Hoffman  House  he  found  that 
to  be  about  a  month  before  the  train  robbery  occurred. 
Finding  the  expressman  who  had  brought  his  baggage  to 
the  hotel,  it  transpired  that  it  had  been  taken  from  an 
English  steamship,  yet  the  name  Thauret  did  not  appear 
upon  the  list  of  passengers.  As  it  was  certain,  however, 
that  the  man  must  have  arrived  by  the  ship,  it  was  evident 
that  "  Thauret "  was  an  alias.  Mr.  Barnes  copied  the 
ship's  list  for  future  reference.  A  search  for  the  name 
Rose  Mitchel  was  fruitless,  though  extended  to  the  pas- 
senger lists  of  all  arriving  steamers  for  two  months  prior 
to  the  murder. 

Believing  that  Mr.  Thauret  must  have  some  communi- 
cation with  foreign  friends,  and  hoping  to  obtain  some 
clue  by  the  post-marks  of  any  such  letters,  Mr.  Barnes 
arranged  an  espionage  of  the  man's  mail.  But  though 
the  hotel  clerk  reported  to  him  daily  for  several  weeks, 
there  was  not  one  foreign  letter.  As  to  money,  Mr. 
Thauret  appeared  to  be  well  supplied,  paying  his  board- 
bills  promptly  with  checks  upon  a  neighboring  national 

189 


190  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

bank,  in  which  it  was  ascertained  that  he  had  deposited 
to  his  credit  several  thousand  dollars. 

Thus  after  a  long  investigation,  Mr.  Barnes  was  cha- 
grined to  admit  that  he  had  discovered  nothing  save  that 
Mr.  Thauret  had  come  across  the  ocean  under  an  assumed 
name,  and  even  this  meagre  knowledge  was  a  mere  matter 
of  inference. 

Though  baffled  in  this  direction  Mr.  Barnes  had  been 
more  successful  in  another  effort  which  he  essayed.  This 
was  a  line  of  investigation  which  he  inaugurated,  hoping 
to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  child  Rose  Mitchel, 
who  was  so  skilfully  kept  in  hiding.  He  had  first  in- 
structed Lucette  as  to  the  part  she  was  to  play,  and  that 
young  woman,  anxious  once  more  to  stand  well  with  her 
employer,  had  exerted  herself  to  her  utmost,  entirely  suc- 
ceeding in  her  mission.  This  was  to  obtain  some  of  the 
writing  of  the  child.  "  Go  to  the  house  again,"  Mr. 
Barnes  had  suggested,  "  and  get  into  conversation  with 
that  same  servant  who  met  you  at  the  door  on  your  first 
visit.  Then  in  some  manner  obtain  a  specimen  of  the 
child's  writing.  An  old  copy-book  would  be  just  the 
thing."  Lucette  carried  out  these  instructions  to  the 
letter,  and  by  bribing  the  servant  girl  at  the  school  ob- 
tained exactly  what  the  detective  had  suggested,  a  copy- 
book in  which  little  Rose  Mitchel  had  practised  writing. 

Armed  with  this,  and  selecting  a  specimen,  which 
seemed  best  suited  to  his  purpose,  Mr.  Barnes  next  bribed 
the  mail  boy  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  to  examine  all 
letters  addressed  to  Mr.  Mitchel  until  he  should  find  one 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  Ipl 

in  the  same  hand.  It  was  not  until  early  in  March  that 
this  patient  work  resulted  in  success.  Then  one  day  the 
boy  reported  to  Mr.  Barnes  that  the  expected  letter  had 
at  length  arrived.  The  post-mark  indicated  that  it  had 
been  mailed  at  East  Orange,  New  Jersey. 

"  So  that  is  where  the  little  bird  is  hidden,"  said  Mr. 
Barnes  to  himself  when  this  information  reached  him. 
Summoning  Lucette,  he  sent  her  to  East  Orange  with 
these  instructions : 

"  Now,  my  girl,  I  '11  give  you  another  chance  to  redeem 
yourself.  You  are  to  go  to  East  Orange  and  find  that 
child.  The  most  promising  plan  is  through  the  post- 
office.  I  will  give  you  a  note  to  the  postmaster  that  will 
aid  you.  Should  a  letter  be  sent  to  the  child  either  by 
Mitchel  himself  or  by  Miss  Remsen,  you  will  learn  of  it 
through  the  postmaster.  The  rest  of  course  will  be 
simple." 

"  But  suppose,"  said  Lucette,  "  that  the  child's  letters 
are  directed  under  cover  to  the  parties  with  whom  she  is 
living  ?  What  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  stupid,  that  is  what  I  send  you  down  there  for. 
As  the  postmaster  is  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  I  could 
get  the  address,  should  it  reach  him,  without  having  you 
there.  But  that  is  only  a  faint  hope.  We  know  that  the 
child  is  in  East  Orange.  East  Orange  has  just  so  many 
houses.  You  must  examine  every  one  if  necessary.  Now 
go,  and  if  you  don  't  find  the  child,  I  have  no  further 
need  of  you.  I  give  you  this  commission  partly  as  a 
chance  to  redeem  your  other  mistake,  and  partly  because 


192  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

you  have  seen  the  child  once  and  could  recognize 
her." 

"  I  '11  find  her,"  said  Lucette,  and  she  departed. 

A  week  later  Mr.  Barnes  was  in  New  Orleans, 
where  he  devoted  himself  to  discovering,  if  possible,  the 
early  histories  of  Mr.  Mitchel  and  the  murdered  woman. 
Weeks  passed  and  he  made  no  progress. 

One  morning  in  the  latter  part  of  April  he  was  feeling 
somewhat  despondent  over  his  ill  success,  when,  as  he 
glanced  listlessly  through  the  Picayune,  the  following 
paragraph  caught  his  eye  : 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  the  celebrated  New  York  detective,  is  in 
the  city  and  stopping  at  the  St.  Charles  Hotel.  It  is  be- 
lieved that  he  is  in  search  of  a  desperate  criminal,  and 
probably  the  news-loving  world  will  soon  be  treated  to  one 
of  the  famous  detective's  clever  elucidations  of  some 
mysterious  crime." 

This  both  annoyed  and  puzzled  Mr.  Barnes.  He  had 
not  told  any  one  his  true  name,  and  could  not  guess  how 
the  reporters  had  found  out  his  identity.  Whilst  he  was 
thinking  of  it  a  card  was  brought  to  him  which  bore  the 
name 

"RICHARD  SEFTON." 

He  directed  that  the  gentleman  should  be  shown  to  his 
room,  and  soon  after  a  man  of  about  thirty-five,  with  dark 
complexion,  black  hair,  and  keen  hazel  eyes,  entered,  bow- 
ing politely  and  saying  : 

"  This  is  Mr.  Barnes,  I  believe." 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  193 

"  Be  seated,  Mr.  Sefton,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  coldly,  "  and 
then  tell  me  why  you  believe  me  to  be  Mr.  Barnes  when 
I  am  registered  as  James  Morton." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  to  be  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  the 
other,  coolly  seating  himself.  "  I  was  inaccurate  in  using 
that  expression.  I  know  that  you  are  Mr.  Barnes." 

"  Oh  !  You  do  !  And  how,  pray,  do  you  know  that  I  am 
Mr.  Barnes  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  my  business  to  know  people.  I  am  a 
detective  like  yourself.  I  have  come  to  help  you." 

"  You  have  come  to  help  me  !  You  are  very  kind  I  am 
sure.  But  since  you  are  so  very  clever,  perhaps  you 
would  not  mind  telling  me  how  you  know  that  I  need 
help,  and  in  what  direction." 

"  With  pleasure.  You  need  help  because,  pardon  my 
saying  it,  you  are  working  on  a  case  in  which  time  is 
precious  to  you,  and  you  have  already  wasted  about  six 
weeks.  I  say  wasted,  because  you  have  learned  nothing 
that  will  aid  you  in  your  search." 

"  In  my  search  for  what  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  not  over-cordial.  There  should 
be  some  fraternal  courtesy  between  us.  I  have  come  to 
you  as  a  friend,  honestly  wishing  to  aid  you.  I  have 
known  that  you  were  in  the  city  for  some  time.  I  have 
heard  of  you  of  course.  Who  in  our  business  has  not  ? 
Therefore  I  have  spent  a  great  deal  of  spare  time  watch- 
ing you.  I  did  so  simply  to  notice,  and  perhaps  to  learn 
something  from,  your  methods.  In  this  way  I  became 
acquainted  with  the  fact,  first,  that  you  are  interested  in 


194  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

the  name  Mitchel,  and  secondly  in  the  name  Leroy.  I 
have  simply  put  the  two  together  and  jumped  to  the  con- 
clusion that  you  are  trying  to  learn  something  about 
Leroy  Mitchel.  Am  I  right  ? " 

"  Before  I  reply  to  you,  Mr.  Sefton,  I  must  have  more 
assurance  of  your  good-will  and  responsibility.  How  do 
I  know  that  you  are  a  detective  at  all  ?  " 

"  Quite  right  !  Here  is  my  badge.  I  am  in  the  depart- 
ment here." 

"  Very  well  so  far,  but  now  how  can  you  prove  that  you 
have  any  good  reason  for  assisting  me  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  hard  man  to  help,  I  declare.  Why,  what 
object  but  a  friendly  one  can  I  have  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  answer  that  at  present.  Perhaps 
I  shall  be  able  to  do  so  later." 

"  Oh,  very  well  !  You  can  look  me  up  all  you  want 
to.  I  can  stand  it,  I  assure  you.  But  really  I  did  want 
to  help,  though  of  course  I  have  no  right  to  intrude.  As 
you  say  you  do  not  need  me,  why  I " 

"  I  did  not  say  that  I  would  not  accept  your  aid.  You 
must  not  think  me  ungracious.  I  am  simply  a  detective, 
and  careful  from  habit.  I  certainly  should  not  speak 
confidentially  to  a  man  that  I  meet  for  the  first  time,  and 
so  disclose  any  of  my  own  purposes.  But  it  is  different 
with  you.  You  must  have  had  a  definite  idea,  by  which 
you  expect  to  give  me  assistance,  or  you  would  not  have 
come  here.  If  you  are  earnest  and  honest,  I  see  no 
reason  why  you  should  not  disclose  the  main  purpose  of 
your  visit  at  once." 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  IQ5 

"  If  only  to  prove  my  honesty,  I  will  do  so.  I  believe 
you  are  looking  for  Leroy  Mitchel.  If  so  I  can  tell  you 
how  to  find  him  in  a  few  hours,  or  at  the  worst  in  a  day 
or  two." 

"  You  know  of  a  Leroy  Mitchel,  who  is  now  in  this 
city  ? " 

"  I  do.  He  is  over  in  Algiers,  a  worker  in  one  of  the 
car  houses.  He  is  a  common  drunken  brute,  and  that  is 
the  only  reason  why  there  would  be  any  difficulty  about 
finding  him.  When  he  is  sober  he  is  easy  to  see,  but  as 
soon  as  he  gets  some  money  he  is  off  on  another  spree." 

"  Do  you  know  of  a  woman  by  the  name  of  Rose 
Mitchel  ? " 

"  Certainly.  That  is,  I  did  know  such  a  woman  once. 
But  she  has  not  been  in  New  Orleans  for  years.  At  one 
time  any  one  could  have  given  you  her  address.  I  see 
now  that  this  man  is  the  one  whom  you  want,  for  once  he 
passed  as  this  woman's  husband." 

"  You  are  sure  of  this  ? " 

"  Positive." 

"  When  and  where  can  I  see  this  man  ?  " 

"  He  works  in  the  shops  of  the  Louisiana  and  Texas 
Railroad  over  in  Algiers.  You  can  find  him  through  the 
foreman." 

"  Mr.  Sefton,  it  may  be  that  you  have  given  me  informa- 
tion which  will  be  of  service  to  me.  If  so  you  will  not 
regret  it.  I  will  myself  examine  into  the  matter.  For 
the  present,  if  I  do  not  make  a  confident  of  you,  you 
must  attribute  it  to  caution  rather  than  to  distrust." 


196  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  easily  offended.  I  would  act  in  the 
same  manner  in  your  place.  But  you  will  find  that  I  am 
your  friend.  You  can  count  on  me  to  aid  you  on 
demand.  I  won't  trouble  you  again  till  you  send  for  me. 
A  note  to  head-quarters  will  reach  me  quickest.  Good- 
morning." 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Sefton,  and  thank  you."  Mr. 
Barnes  extended  his  hand,  feeling  that  perhaps  he  had 
been  unnecessarily  discourteous. 

Mr.  Sefton  took  it  with  that  genial  smile  of  friendship 
so  common  to  the  native  Southerner. 

Left  alone,  Mr.  Barnes  at  once  prepared  for  a  trip  to 
Algiers,  determined  not  to  let  any  more  time  be  lost.  He 
reached  the  shops  just  after  the  men  had  knocked  off  for 
luncheon.  The  foreman,  however,  told  him  that  Leroy 
Mitchel  had  been  at  work  in  the  morning,  so  he  waited 
patiently. 

When  the  men  came  back  to  resume  work,  the  foreman 
pointed  out  a  man  who  he  said  was  Leroy  Mitchel.  The 
fellow  had  a  bad  face,  and  if  ever  he  was  a  gentleman 
he  had  sunk  so  low  through  drink  that  no  evidence  of  it 
remained  in  his  appearance.  Mr.  Barnes  went  up  to 
him  and  asked  when  he  could  have  a  talk  with  him. 

"  Now,  if  you  pay  for  it,"  replied  the  man  insolently. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  detective. 

"  Just  what  I  say,"  said  the  other.  "  We  get  our  pay 
here  by  the  hour,  and  if  you  want  my  time  why  you  '11 
have  to  pay  for  it  at  union  rates,"  and  he  laughed  as 
though  a  good  joke  had  been  propounded. 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  IQ7 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  taking  in  the  kind  of  a  man 
with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  "  I  '11  engage  you  on  a  job  that 
I  have  for  you,  and  pay  you  double  wages  as  long  as  I 
use  you." 

"  Now  you  are  talking,"  said  the  fellow.  "  Where  '11 
we  go  ? " 

"  I  think  I  '11  take  you  to  my  hotel."  And  thither  they 
proceeded.  Up  in  his  own  room  again,  Mr.  Barnes  felt  at 
ease,  whilst  his  companion  certainly  made  himself  com- 
fortable, selecting  a  rocking-chair,  and  putting  his  feet 
up  on  the  window-sill. 

"  Now  then,"  began  Mr.  Barnes,  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a 
few  questions.  Are  you  prepared  to  answer  them  ?  " 

"  That  will  depend  on  what  they  are.  If  you  don't  ask 
impertinent  questions,  or  ones  that  I  think  I  ought  to  get 
more  than  double  wages  for  answering,  why,  I  am  witK 
you." 

"  In  the  first  place,  then,  are  you  willing  to  say 
whether  you  ever  knew  a  woman  who  called  herself 
Rose  Mitchel?" 

"  Well,  rather.     I  lived  with  her  till  she  broke  me." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  is  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't,  and  I  don't  care  to." 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  she  is  dead,  and  that  she 
had  left  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  which  is  unclaimed  ?  " 

The  man  jumped  to  his  feet  as  though  shot,  and  stood 
staring  at  the  detective.  He  gave  a  long,  low  whistle,  and 
a  keen,  tricky  gleam  came  into  his  eye,  which  Mr,  Barnes 
noted.  At  length  he  spoke  - 


198  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

"  Are  you  giving  me  this  straight  ? " 

"  I  am  telling  you  the  truth.  The  woman  is  dead,  and 
that  amount  of  property  is  where  I  can  get  it  for  the  man 
who  can  prove  that  he  is  entitled  to  it." 

"And  who  would  that  be  ?  "  He  waited  eagerly  for  the 
reply,  and  Mr.  Barnes  saw  that  he  was  playing  trump 
cards. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Mitchel,  that  is  what  I  am  down  here  for. 
You  see,  I  thought  the  party  would  be  willing  to  pay  me 
a  good  commission  for  proving  him  the  heir,  and  that  is 
why  I  am  hunting  him  up.  I  started  out  with  the  idea 
that  I  might  find  her  husband.  He  would  have  a  claim." 

"  I  see."  Saying  which,  he  sat  down  and  seemed  lost 
in  thought.  The  detective  deemed  it  well  to  wait  for 
him  to  speak  again,  which  he  did. 

"  See  here,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  how  much  do  you  want 
for  getting  this  money  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  get  it  at  all  unless  you  are  the  woman's  hus- 
band," replied  the  detective. 

"  Well  I  am  her  husband.  Did  n't  I  tell  you  I  lived 
with  her  till  she  broke  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  are  you  legally  married  to  her  ? " 

"  Why,  to  be  sure.   Don't  I  tell  you  I  am  her  husband  ? " 

"  Then,  in  the  name  of  the  law,  I  arrest  you,"  said  Mr. 
Barnes,  suddenly  rising  and  standing  over  the  man. 

"Arrest  me,"  said  the  fellow,  jumping  up,  pale  with 
fright.  "  What  for  ? " 

"  Rose  Mitchel  has  been  murdered,  and  the  man  who 
killed  her  has  confessed  that  he  was  hired  to  do  it  by  you." 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  199 

fc  He  is  a  blasted  liar." 

"  I  hope  so  for  your  sake.  But  as  you  admit  that  you 
are  her  husband,  you  are  the  man  we  are  looking  for. 
I  '11  have  to  take  you  to  New  York." 

"  But,  I  say,"  said  the  fellow,  now  thoroughly  alarmed, 
"  there  is  a  big  mistake  here.  I  've  been  lying  to  you  ; 
I  'm  not  the  woman's  husband,  and  my  name  is  not 
Mitchel." 

"  That  won't  do,  my  man.  I  had  you  pointed  out  to 
me  by  Sefton,  the  detective  here." 

"  But  he  is  the  very  man  that  hired  me  to  pass  off  as 
Mitchel  to  you." 

Mr.  Barnes  chuckled  as  he  found  his  ruse  successful. 
He  had  suspected  all  along  that  the  New  Orleans  detective 
was  trying  to  lead  him  off  on  a  wrong  scent,  and  now 
thought  he  saw  a  chance  to  turn  the  tables  upon  him  and 
get  some  valuable  information. 

"That  is  a  very  thin  story,"  said  he,  "but  if  you  will 
tell  me  all  you  know,  perhaps  I  may  believe  you." 

"  You  bet  I  '11  give  you  the  whole  story  straight,  to  get 
out  of  this  scrape.  In  the  first  place,  my  name  is  Arthur 
Chambers.  I  was  up  in  the  world  once,  had  money,  and 
was  respectable.  But  drink  changed  all  that.  Now  any- 
body can  buy  me  for  a  few  dollars,  and  that  is  what 
Sefton  did.  He  came  to  me  about  a  week  ago,  and  told 
me  that  a  detective  was  down  here  from  up  north  nosing 
around  for  this  Mitchel.  He  said  it  was  important  to  an 
employer  of  his  up  in  New  York  to  have  this  detective 
balked  ;  that  he  was  hired  to  do  it,  and  to  make  him 


300  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

lose  time  ;  that  time,  in  some  way,  was  an  important 
item." 

"  You  say,"  interrupted  Mr.  Barnes,  "  that  Sefton  told 
you  he  was  hired  by  some  one  in  New  York  to  throw  me 
off  the  scent  ?  " 

"  That 's  what  he  said,"  replied  Chambers.  Mr.  Barnes 
easily  guessed  who  was  employing  Sefton,  and  once  more 
he  paid  the  tribute  of  admiration  for  the  caution  and 
ingenious  scheming  of  Mr.  Mitchel. 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  detective. 

"  There  an't  much  more  to  tell.  Sefton  hired  me  to 
play  off  that  I  was  Mitchel,  and  he  gave  me  a  cock-and- 
bull  yarn  to  feed  you  with  about  a  woman  named  Rose 
Mitchel." 

"  What  was  that  story  ? " 

"  Say,  look  here,"  said  Chambers,  his  confidence  and 
cunning  returning  as  he  felt  himself  out  of  danger  of 
arrest,  "  you  don't  want  that  fairy  tale.  You  would 
rather  have  the  true  story,  would  n't  you  ? " 

"Certainly." 

"  Well,  I  'm  an  old-timer,  I  am.  There  an't  much  that 's 
happened  in  the  Crescent  that  I  could  n't  remember,  if  I 
was  paid  for  it." 

"  See  here,  my  man,  you  are  not  dealing  with  Sefton 
now.  You  tell  me  what  I  want  to  know,  and  if  I  find  it 
is  true,  I  '11  pay  you  for  it.  But  if  you  play  any  tricks, 
I  '11  make  it  warm  for  you." 

"  That  's  all  right.  Suppose  I  begin  by  telling  you  that 
this  Rose  Mitchel,  that  you  say  was  murdered,  was  known 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  2O1 

down  here  chiefly  as  Rose  Montalbon.  '  La  Montalbon/ 
she  was  generally  called." 

"La  Montalbon  ?"  repeated  Mr.  Barnes.  "Then,  was 
she  an  actress  ?  " 

"Actress  ?  Well,  I  guess  she  was,  considerable.  But 
not  on  the  stage.  No,  she  kept  a  gambling-den  on  Royal 
Street.  Fitted  up  like  a  palace  too,  and  many  a  young 
fool  has  lost  his  last  dime  in  that  house." 

"  But  what  about  Mitchel  ?  Do  you  know  whether  he 
was  connected  with  her  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  I  can't  give  you  that  dead  straight.  There  was  some 
mystery  there.  I  used  to  go  to  the  Royal  Street  place, 
and  I  knew  Mitchel  in  a  sort  of  way.  He  was  always 
hanging  around  there.  Then  there  was  a  while  that  he 
did  n't  show  up,  and  then  he  turned  up  again  and  was  in- 
troduced as  La  Montalbon's  husband.  There  was  a  story 
going  that  he  had  married  another  girl  and  deserted  her. 
A  young  Creole  I  think,  though  I  never  heard  her 
name." 

"  Did  you  know  anything  about  a  child,  a  girl  ?  " 

"  That  was  another  queer  part  of  it.  There  was  a  girl, 
little  Rosy.  Some  said  it  was  the  Creole's,  but  La  Mon- 
talbon always  claimed  it  was  hers." 

"  What  became  of  Mitchel  ?  " 

"  About  a  year  after  he  passed  as  La  Montalbon's  hus- 
band he  skipped  out — vanished.  Several  years  after  that 
there  was  another  sensation.  The  child  was  kidnapped. 
La  Montalbon  offered  big  rewards  to  recover  her,  but  she 
never  did.  Then  about  three  years  ago  her  place  began 


902  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

to  run  down  ;  she  lost  money,  and  finally  she  too  dis- 
appeared." 

"  If  this  story  is  true  it  may  be  quite  important.  Do 
you  think  you  could  identify  this  man  Mitchel  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  for  certain.  But  see  here,  come 
to  think  of  it,  there  were  two  Mitchels,  and  both  named 
Leroy  too." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Pretty  sure.  They  were  cousins.  The  other  fellow 
was  younger.  I  did  n't  know  him  myself.  He  was  a 
Young-Men's-Christian-Association  sort  of  a  boy,  and  not 
quite  in  my  line.  But  I  sort  of  remember  hearing  that 
he  was  in  love  with  the  Creole  girl.  But  say,  I  '11  tell  you 
who  can  give  it  to  you  straight  as  a  shingle." 

"  Ah,  who  is  that  ?  " 

"  An  old  man  named  Neuilly.  He  knew  all  about  the 
Creole,  and  so  must  know  about  the  Mitchels.  I  think  he 
was  in  La  Montalbon's  power.  She  knew  something  about 
him  and  blackmailed  him,  as  she  did  lots  of  others.  Now 
that  she  is  dead,  you  might  make  him  open  his  mouth." 

"  Very  good.  Get  me  his  address,  and  then  see  what 
you  can  find  out  about  the  other  Leroy  Mitchel,  the 
good  boy.  Discover  what  became  of  him  and  I  '11  pay 
you  well.  Meanwhile  don't  let  Sefton  know  that  you  are 
not  carrying  out  his  scheme." 

"  Say,  pard,  I  tumble  to  you  now.  You  suspected  Sef- 
ton and  you  played  your  cards  to  draw  me  out.  Well,  you 
did  it  neat,  and  now  I  'm  with  you.  Good-day.  When  I 
see  you  again  I  '11  have  some  news  for  you," 


MR.    BARNES    GOES   SOUTH.  203 

The  following  day  Mr.  Barnes  called  at  the  bachelor 
nome  of  Mr.  Neuilly.  The  handsome  old  man  received 
him  in  stately  fashion  and  courteously  asked  the  detec- 
tive to  explain  his  mission. 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Barnes  did  not  know  how  to  pro- 
ceed ;  he  at  last  said  : 

"  Mr.  Neuilly,  I  have  come  to  ask  your  aid  in  the  cause 
of  justice.  I  have  hesitated  to  do  this,  not  wishing  to 
disturb  you.  That  I  do  so  now  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
every  other  resource  has  been  tried  and  has  failed 
me." 

"  Proceed,  sir,"  said  the  host,  with  a  courteous  bow. 

"  I  am  seeking  certain  information  about  a  woman  who 
was  known  as  La  Montalbon,  and "  An  instantane- 
ous change  came  over  the  face  of  Mr.  Neuilly.  His 
hospitable  smile  of  welcome  vanished.  He  rose  erect 
and  stiffly  said  : 

"  I  know  nothing  of  that  woman,  and  must  wish  you  a 
very  good  morning,"  with  which  he  deliberately  began  to 
walk  from  the  room.  Mr.  Barnes  for  a  moment  was  non- 
plussed, but  saw  that  he  must  act  quickly  or  lose  all  chance 
of  gaining  any  information  from  this  man. 

"One  moment,  Mr.  Neuilly,"  he  said  ;  "you  certainly 
would  not  refuse  to  help  me  convict  her  murderer."  As 
he  expected,  the  last  word  brought  him  back. 

"  Murderer  ?  Did  you  mean  to  intimate  that  she  has 
been  murdered  ? "  Saying  this  he  stopped  for  a  second, 
and  then  slowly  returned  and  sat  down  again. 

"  Rose  Montalbon  was  murdered  in  New  York  some 


2O4  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

months  ago.  I  believe  that  I  am  on  the  track  of  the 
guilty  man.  Will  you  aid  me  ?  " 

"  That  depends  upon  circumstances.  You  say  the 
woman  is  dead.  That  alters  my  position  in  this  matter 
very  much.  I  had  reasons,  good  ones  to  me,  for  refusing 
to  converse  with  you  on  this  subject.  But  if  the  woman 
is  dead,  the  objections  vanish."  Mr.  Barnes  thought  he 
understood.  Here  was  one  of  those  who  had  been  ruled 
by  fear,  as  Chambers  had  said. 

"  What  I  want  from  you,  Mr.  Neuilly,  is  very  simple. 
You  either  can  or  you  cannot  give  me  the  information  that 
I  wish.  Did  you  know  a  man  named  Leroy  Mitchel  who 
was  at  one  time  this  woman's  husband  ?  " 

"  I  knew  him  very  well.  He  was  a  scoundrel  of  the 
deepest  dye,  for  all  that  he  had  the  manners  of  the  pol- 
ished gentleman." 

"  Do  you  know  what  became  of  him  ?  " 

"  No  ;  he  left  this  city  suddenly  and  has  never  re- 
turned." 

"  Did  you  know  little  Rose  Mitchel  ?  " 

"  Many  a  time  has  she  sat  upon  my  knee.  This  man 
was  her  father.  He  wronged  one  of  the  sweetest  little 
girls  that  ever  lived." 

"  You  knew  this  girl  ?    Knew  her  name  ?" 

"I  did." 

"  What  was  it  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  secret  I  have  guarded  for  too  many  years  to 
be  willing  to  yield  it  now  to  a  stranger.  You  must  show 
me  good  reasons  for  giving  it  to  you  before  I  tell  it." 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  205 

"I  will  explain.  This  man  Mitchel  is  now  in  New 
York.  He  is  about  to  marry  a  sweet,  good  woman.  Yet 
I  think  that  he  murdered  Rose  Montalbon,  or  Mitchel,  to 
get  her  out  of  his  way.  I  think  that  she  was  blackmailing 
him.  Besides,  he  has  his  child  with  him." 

Mr.  Neuilly  started  up  and  paced  the  room  for  some 
time,  much  agitated.  Finally  he  stopped  and  said  : 

"  You  say  he  has  the  child  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Here  is  her  likeness."  He  handed  Mr.  Neuilly 
the  photograph  made  by  Lucette. 

Mr.  Neuilly  looked  at  it,  muttered  "  very  like  !  very 
like  ! "  then  remained  silent  for  some  moments ;  finally 
he  said  : 

"  And  you  think  he  murdered  this  woman,  Montalbon  ?" 

"I  do." 

"  It  would  be  terrible  to  hang  that  child's  father.  What 
dishonor  !  What  dishonor  !  But  Justice  is  Justice  !  "  Hft 
seemed  to  be  talking  rather  to  himself  than  to  Mr.  Barnes. 
Suddenly  he  turned  and  said  : 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  the  name  for  which  you  ask.  But  I 
will  go  with  you  to  New  York,  and  if  this  story  of  yours 
is  true,  I  will  move  heaven  and  earth  to  see  justice  done. 
That  villain  must  not  ruin  another  young  life." 

"  Good,"  exclaimed  the  detective,  delighted  with  the 
result  of  his  visit. 

"  One  more  point,  Mr.  Neuilly.  What  do  you  know  of 
the  existence  of  another  Mr.  Leroy  Mitchel  ? " 

"  I  never  met  him,  though  I  knew  of  him.  There  was 
a  mystery  about  that,  which  I  never  could  unravel,  I 


K>6  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

think  that  he  loved  this  same  girl.  At  any  rate  shortly 
after  she  died,  he  lost  his  reason,  and  is  now  in  an  insane 
asylum.  Of  course  he  cannot  help  us." 

Mr.  Barnes,  after  arranging  where  to  meet  Mr.  Neuilly, 
returned  to  the  St.  Charles  to  make  his  own  preparations 
for  going  north.  Up  in  his  room  he  found  Chambers 
awaiting  him. 

"  Well,"  said  the  detective,  "  what  have  you  learned  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  will  please  you,  I  am  sorry  to  say. 
Only  I  have  found  the  other  Mitchel.  He  is  a  lunatic, 
in  an  asylum  out  in  the  suburbs.  But  the  fellow  up  north 
is  your  man  sure.  This  one,  they  say,  went  crazy  because 
his  sweetheart  gave  him  the  mitten." 

"  Did  you  find  out  the  woman's  name  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  do  that.  It  seems  as  carefully  hidden  as 
though  it  was  a  state  secret.  That  gives  you  an  insight 
into  what  the  Creole  pride  is." 

"  Very  well.  I  think  you  have  worked  for  me  faith- 
fully. Here  is  a  hundred  dollar  bill.  Will  that  satisfy 
you?" 

"  Perfectly.     I  wish  you  luck." 

An  hour  later  a  telegram  was  handed  to  Mr.  Barnes, 
which  read : 

"  Have  found  the  child. 

(Signed)  Lucette." 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Barnes  started  for  New  York  ac- 
companied by  Mr.  Neuilly.  That  same  night  Mr.  Robert 
Leroy  Mitchel  received  a  telegram  which  read : 


MR.    BARNES   GOES   SOUTH.  2CJ 

"  Barnes  off  for  New  York.  Has  old  Neuilly  with  him. 
If  the  last  named  knows  anything,  you  must  be  careful. 

(Signed)     SEFTON." 

After  reading  this,  Mr.  Mitchel  completed  his  toilet, 
used  the  despatch  to  light  a  cigarette,  and  then  took  his 
fiancte  to  the  opera. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AN    INTERRUPTED    WEDDING. 

DURING  the  time  spent  by  Mr.  Barnes  in  the  South, 
his  spies  in  New  York  discovered  little,  or  nothing, 
against  the  persons  whom  they  had  been  charged  to 
watch.  Indeed  from  the  standpoint  of  a  detective,  the 
actions  of  all  had  been  most  uninteresting.  The  usual 
round  of  social  affairs,  the  customary  number  of  theatre 
or  opera  parties,  the  regular  afternoon  teas,  in  fact  the 
ordinary  routine  life  of  the  man  or  woman  of  fashion, 
was  all  that  could  be  observed.  Yet  of  course  these 
weeks  did  not  pass  without  any  occurrence  of  note.  The 
chief  one  perhaps,  was  the  naming  of  the  day,  upon  which 
the  wedding  of  Mr.  Mitchel  and  Miss  Remsen  was  to 
occur.  This  was  May  5th,  the  very  day  upon  which  Mr. 
Barnes  would  reach  New  York  with  Mr.  Neuilly. 

Thus,  fate  seemed  hurrying  on  a  climax  which  was  to 
occur  on  the  wedding  day.  In  New  Orleans  a  detective 
was  seeking  evidence  upon  which  he  hoped  to  convict  a 
man  of  the  heinous  crime  of  murder,  whilst  in  New  York 
a  beautiful  woman  was  bestowing  her  faith  upon  this 
same  man,  and  with  the  assistance  of  many  fingers, 
preparing  to  bedeck  herself  in  bridal  finery  for  his 
delectation.  Meanwhile,  the  man  himself  acted  most 

208 


AN   INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  2OQ 

unconcernedly.  He  seemed  to  consider  himself  beyond 
the  risk  of  danger,  and  he  accepted  his  happiness  as 
does  one  who  had  honorably  earned  it. 

Of  much  interest  to  us,  in  the  light  of  fast  approaching 
events,  was  the  curious  conduct  of  Dora  Remsen  during 
this  period.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Randolph 
had  lost  an  opportunity  of  declaring  himself,  and  that  he 
warned  the  young  lady  against  Mr.  Thauret  as  one  not 
to  be  trusted.  This  kind  of  advice,  it  is  to  be  presumed, 
is  offered  by  the  one  giving  it,  with  some  idea,  how- 
ever distant,  that  it  may  be  accepted.  Yet  the  histories 
of  many  lives  would  show  that  only  a  small  percentage  of 
similar  advice  has  ever  been  received  with  acquiescence. 
Indeed,  it  might  also  be  said  that  many  persons  have  been 
hurried  into  each  other's  arms  by  the  interference  of 
wiseacres,  when  perhaps,  if  left  to  themselves,  they  would 
have  drifted  apart.  At  least  so  it  seemed  in  this  case. 
Mr.  Thauret  had  become  not  only  a  constant  visitor  at 
the  home  of  the  Remsens',  but  he  seemed  a  welcome  one. 
He  certainly  was  a  most  entertaining  man,  and  his  man- 
ners utterly  unapproachable.  He  had  travelled,  and  not 
only  had  seen  the  world,  but  had  observed  it,  which  is 
another  thing.  The  result  of  this  was  that  he  had  a 
fund  of  narrative  always  at  his  disposal,  and  his  conver- 
sation was  so  attractive  that  he  easily  monopolized  the 
attention  of  a  coterie  at  any  social  gathering.  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph noted  with  growing  uneasiness  that  Dora  was 
always  one  of  the  group  who  listened  to  these  tales.  What 
disturbed  him  most,  was  that  after  the  greatest  amount 


310  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

of  time  spent  and  wasted,  in  seeking  some  flagrant  defect 
in  the  man's  character,  he  was  at  last  compelled  to 
acknowledge  to  himself  that  he  had  nothing  against  Mr. 
Thauret,  except  a  prejudice.  But  that  prejudice  was  as 
great,  if  not  greater,  than  ever.  He  determined  at  length 
to  speak  to  Mr.  Mitchel  about  it,  and  did  so  one  after- 
noon when  the  rooms  were  crowded,  his  rival  being  as 
usual  the  centre  of  an  attentive  group. 

"  Mitchel,"  he  began,  "  how  the  deuce  did  that  fellow 
Thauret  get  into  this  family  ? " 

"  Dora  met  him  somewhere,  I  believe.     Why  ?  " 

"Why?    Can  you  ask  that  ?" 

"  Can  I  ?  Why  certainly  I  can.  I  did  ask  you, — 
Why?" 

"  I  declare,  Mitchel,  you  are  either  as  blind  as  a  bat,  or 
else  you  have  eyes  only  for  Miss  Emily.  Don't  you  see 
the  danger  that  the  younger  sister  is  in,  associating  with 
that  man  ? " 

"  Well  now,  Randolph,  to  be  candid,  I  must  admit  I  do 
not  see  the  danger.  What  is  it?  " 

"  Why,  suppose — suppose  she  fell  in  love  with  him  ? 
Suppose  she  married  him  !  " 

"Well,  what  then?" 

"  What  then  ?  You  would  provoke  a  saint.  You  talk 
as  coolly  about  that  child's  throwing  herself  away  on  a — 
a  nobody — as  though  we  were  discussing  a  shot  at 
billiards." 

"  Randolph,  my  friend,  let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice. 
When  a  man  wishes  to  marry  a  girl,  there  are  two  impor- 


AN    INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  311 

tant  rules  which  he  must  observe,  and  both  of  them  I 
believe  you  have  neglected." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Before  I  explain,  let  me  ask  you  a  question.  Am  I 
right  in  supposing  that  you  wish  to  marry  Dora  yourself  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  is  rather  pointed.  However,  I  will  admit 
the  truth.  I  would  be  happy  to  have  her  love." 

"  Very  well.  I  will  tell  you  those  two  rules.  The  first 
is,  *  Never  speak  ill  of  your  rival.'  The  second  is,  '  Don't 
be  too  late  asking  for  the  young  lady.'  " 

Randolph  looked  at  Mr.  Mitchel  a  moment  intently, 
then  offered  his  hand,  which  was  grasped  warmly.  He 
said  simply  "  I  thank  you,"  and  walked  over  to  the  group 
where  Dora  was.  After  awhile,  taking  advantage  of  an 
opportune  lull,  he  leaned  over  her  and  said  in  an 
undertone  : 

"  May  I  have  a  few  words  of  conversation  with 
you?" 

She  looked  up  at  him,  evidently  surprised  at  his  tone, 
and  asked  : 

"  Is  it  important  ?  " 

"  Very,"  he  replied  succinctly,  and  excusing  herself  to 
the  company  she  permitted  him  to  lead  her  into  the  next 
room,  where  she  sat  beside  him  on  the  sofa,  to  which  he 
invited  her  with  a  motion.  After  a  brief  silence,  during 
which  each  thought  intently,  he  began  : 

"  Miss  Dora,  I  wish  you  to  listen  to  me,  if  you  please, 
to  the  end.  I  think  you  know  that  I  love  you."  He 
paused  just  a  moment,  whilst  she  trembled  slightly, 


212  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

blushed,  and  drooped  her  head.  He  continued  :  "  I  have 
never  told  you  this  before  in  words,  I  know,  but  you  are 
a  woman,  and  must  have  read  my  heart  long  ago.  You 
are  all  so  clever  at  that  sort  of  thing.  I  am  only  a  man, 
and  I  have  not  been  able  to  read  yours  at  all.  I  really 
do  not  know  whether  you  care  for  me  or  not.  Once  I 
thought  that  you  did,  but  of  late — but  no  matter,  I  will 
not  go  into  that.  In  brief,  then,  I  have  only  to  say  that  it 
would  make  me  supremely  happy  to  know  that  you  would 
some  day  be  my  wife.  In  exchange,  I  offer  you  a  lifelong 
devotion.  And  now — I  think — that  is  all  I  have  to  say. 
Dora — little  sweetheart — do  you,  could  you  trust  yourself 
to  me  ? " 

He  had  gently  taken  her  hand  whilst  he  spoke,  and  the 
fact  that  she  had  neither  resisted  nor  withdrawn  it  had 
encouraged  him  to  the  more  affectionate  terms  which  he 
used  at  the  end  of  his  love  speech.  She  hesitated  awhile, 
then  gently  disengaging  her  hand,  and  looking  at  him  with 
just  a  suspicion  of  a  tear  in  her  eye,  she  said  almost  in  a 
whisper : 

"  Do  you  care  very  much  ?  " 

"  Very  much  !  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much."  He  tried 
to  recapture  her  hand,  but  she  eluded  him.  Again  she 
asked  a  question  : 

"  Money  is  not  an  object  to  you,  in  this  ?  " 

"  Miss  Remsen,  you  insult  me." 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  said  quickly, "  you  misunderstand.  I 
did  not  mean  my  money.  I  can't  explain,  yet  you  must 
answer  my  question.  Would  you  mind  if — oh,  how  shall 


AN    INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  213 

I  say  it  ?  Suppose  J  did  something  that  cost  you  a  lot  of 
money " 

"  Oh  !  I  see,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Randolph,  brightening  up. 
"You  mean  you  are  extravagant.  Don't  let  that  bother 
you  a  minute.  You  may  cost  me  as  much  money  as  you 
can  possibly  spend.  I  will  never  complain." 

She  seemed  much  relieved,  but  she  did  not  speak  at 
once.  Her  eyes  wandered  away  from  him,  and  following 
her  gaze  he  saw  them  reach  and  rest  upon  Mr.  Thauret. 
A  jealous  pang  darted  through  his  heart.  He  was  about 
to  speak  when  she  turned  to  him  and  said  with  suppressed 
emotion  : 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  angry  with  me,  and  that  you 
will  not  think  evil  of  me.  There  is  something  I  cannot 
explain,  yet  which,  if  I  could,  you  would  not  object  to. 
But  until  I  can  tell  you  about  it — I  cannot — I  cannot — give 
you  an  answer.  Would  you — would  you  be  willing  to 
wait  ? "  There  was  a  tone  of  entreaty  in  her  voice. 

"  How  long  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Randolph,  still  irritated,  and 
wondering  if  the  something  which  she  could  not  tell  was 
in  any  way  connected  with  Mr.  Thauret. 

"Would  you  mind— if  I  asked  you  to  wait  till — well, 
say  the  New  Year  ? " 

"  That  is  a  long  time,  but  if  it  is  your  will,  I  must." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  "  That  was  all  she  said  ;  but  there 
was  a  hint  of  rapture  in  her  speech,  there  were  tears  in 
her  eyes,  and  for  one  brief  ecstatic  moment  he  thought 
that  there  was  love  in  her  heart,  and  that  that  love  was 
for  him.  With  an  impulse  that  he  could  not  control,  and 


214  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

which  she  did  not  check,  he  drew  her  to  him,  and  softly 
touched  her  lips  with  his  own.  He  felt  satisfied,  though 
she  left  him  immediately  and  went  at  once  to  Mr. 
Thauret,  who  greeted  her  with  evident  warmth.  There 
is  something,  magnetism  if  you  please,  but  a  something 
that  binds  two  true  lovers'  hearts  so  that  an  impulse  in 
the  one  excites  an  answering  sensation  in  the  other. 
The  oddest  fact  in  this  connection  is,  that  though  one 
may  fancy  himself  deeply  in  love,  he  is  not,  till  he 
has  received  one  of  these  instantaneous  messages  which 
Cupid  ticks  over  Love's  telegraph.  After  that  he  is 
enslaved.  His  better  judgment  is  gone.  He  will  argue 
in  the  lonely  hours  of  the  night  that  he  has  made  a 
mistake,  that  the  woman  is  not  destined  to  make  him 
happy,  that  she  has  this,  that,  or  the  other  fault, 
but  it  counts  for  nothing,  save  that  he  suffers.  That 
one  stab  has  slain  his  manhood,  and  he  cannot  control 
his  actions.  As  soon  as  he  meets  the  woman  again, 
act  as  she  may,  his  love  is  aflame  once  more.  She  may 
ill-treat  him,  she  may  ignore  him,  it  matters  not ;  she 
attracts  him. 

Thus  it  was  with  poor  Mr.  Randolph.  Throughout  the 
many  weeks  that  followed  he  suffered  much.  He  called 
his  love  all  the  unpleasant  things  that  jealousy  could  sug- 
gest. But  invariably  the  recollection  of  that  one  moment, 
when  she  had  seemed  in  that  indistinct,  indescribable  way 
to  have  yielded  her  whole  self,  her  whole  soul  to  him, 
would  flash  across  his  mind,  and  at  once  his  reason  was 
silenced,  and  he  would  say ; 


AN   INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  «5 

"  She  could  not  have  done  that  if  she  were  false.  She 
loves  me,  but  there  is  something  that  I  do  not  understand 
which  makes  her  treat  me  so.  She  told  me  so,  and  said 
that  when  she  could  tell  it  to  me,  I  should  not  mind. 
Well,  I  must  be  patient  and  wait.  I  must  trust  her  ;  she 
must  be,  she  is,  true  !  "  And  then  gradually  all  the  old 
doubts  would  creep  over  him  again,  and  the  suffering 
would  be  as  poignant  as  before. 

It  was  about  a  month  after  the  conversation  related, 
when  a  somewhat  similar  one  occurred  between  the  same 
young  lady  and  Mr.  Thauret.  He  had  called  one  after- 
noon, when  Dora  was  alone,  and  so  had  the  field  to  him- 
self. He  spoke  to  her  of  all  those  things  which  he  had 
found  most  interesting  to  her,  and  she  was  enjoying  his 
society  very  much,  when  suddenly,  as  twilight  approached 
and  the  room  grew  slightly  darkened,  he  began  to  touch 
upon  a  more  tender  theme.  He  spoke  of  himself,  of  the 
wandering  life  that  he  had  led,  of  the  fact  that  he  was 
alone  in  the  world,  without  a  living  relative.  He  men- 
tioned, as  though  it  were  of  no  importance,  that  he  was  of 
noble  blood.  Then  he  drew  a  touching  picture  of  a  man 
vho,  whilst  really  of  a  most  affectionate  nature,  was  com- 
pelled to  live  a  loveless  life,  because  there  was  none  to 
whom  he  could  turn  for  that  sort  of  comfort.  Then  he 
asked  her  gently,  very  gently,  whether  she  had  ever 
thought  upon  the  subject  herself,  and  whether  she  had 
felt  a  yearning  for  the  companionship  of  one  who  would 
be  all  in  all  to  her.  His  pleading  was  very  pretty  to 
listen  to,  and  she  heard  him  as  though  much  impressed 


2l6  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

but  her  reply  was  not  exactly  what  he  evidently  hoped  it 
would  have  been. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  "  I  have  thought  of  all  that  in  a 
vague  sort  of  way.  But,  you  see,  I  have  been  in  love  with 
my  beautiful  Queen,  for  so  long  that  I  cannot  imagine  a 
life  without  her.  And  yet " — there  was  a  tremor  in  her 
voice — "  I  am  going  to  lose  her  soon.  She  will  go  away 
for  awhile,  and  then  I  fancy  I  shall  feel  that  loneliness  of 
which  you  speak.  So,  if  you  want  to  hear  my  real  ideas 
upon  that  subject  you  must  wait  till  after  the  wedding." 
She  said  this  last  with  a  tone  of  deep  meaning,  and  Mr. 
Thauret  seemed  to  accept  her  remark  as  a  hint,  for  he 
changed  the  subject.  Shortly  afterwards  he  went  away. 
As  he  walked  down  the  avenue,  there  was  almost  a  tri- 
umphant smile  upon  his  face.  This,  however,  was  not 
reported  to  Mr.  Barnes,  for  the  spy  was  behind  and  could 
not  see  his  face. 

It  was  only  a  few  nights  after  this  that  Mr.  Mitchel  was 
walking  home  from  the  club,  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Thauret,  when  the  latter  turned  the  conversation  upon 
the  Miss  Remsens. 

"  They  certainly  are  charming  girls,"  said  he,  "  but  one 
would  need  to  be  rich  to  afford  the  luxury  of  marrying 
one  of  them.  I  suppose  they  have  nothing  until  the 
death  of  the  mother." 

Mr.  Mitchel  thought  that  he  understood  the  object  of 
the  question,  and  for  reasons  of  his  own  was  glad  to 
reply  to  it. 

"  O,  not  at  all,"  said  he.   "  The  father  left  each  of  them 


AM    INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  217 

a  handsome  sum,  fifty  thousand  in  fact,  which  they  are  to 
receive  as  soon  as  married.  The  bulk  of  the  money,  of 
course,  went  to  the  widow,  but  her  interest  is  only  for 
life,  and  then  it  is  to  be  equally  divided  between  the 
girls.  I  think  it  is  somewhere  near  half  a  million." 

"  You  are  a  fortunate  fellow.    I  wish  I  had  your  luck." 

"  My  dear  Thauret,  can  a  man  of  your  intelligence 
believe  in  such  a  stupid  thing  as  luck  ?  It  no  more  exists 
than  its  antithesis,  ill  luck.  Every  man  succeeds  or  not, 
according  to  his  own  skill  in  guiding  his  life.  Now  you 
envy  me  my  marriage  to  Emily,  when  certainly  her  sister 
Dora  is  just  as  charming,  and  richer,  too." 

"  Miss  Dora  is  charming,  true  ;  but  that  does  not  make 
me  a  successful  suitor.  But  what  do  you  mean  by  saying 
that  she  is  richer  ?  " 

"Why,  you  see,  her  sister  is  devoted  to  her,  and  has 
promised  her  a  gift  of  ten  thousand  dollars  the  day  she 
marries,  upon  one  condition." 

"  And  that  condition  is  ? " 

"  That  the  husband  shall  be  satisfactory  to  her." 

There  was  a  silence  for  several  minutes,  finally  broken 
by  Mr.  Thauret : 

"  Well,  in  the  light  of  your  approaching  marriage,  which 
will  make  you  the  only  man  in  the  family,  I  presume  your 
influence  would  count.  If  I  should  wish  to  marry  Miss 
Dora,  I  suppose  you  would  favor  my  suit  ?  " 

"That  is  not  a  new  idea  to  me,  I  assure  you.  All 
I  need  say  is  that  when  you  gain  Dora's  consent,  you  shall 
have  mine." 


2l8  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"Thank  you."  Mr.  Thauret  said  this  with  suppressed 
emotion,  and  after  that  neither  man  spoke  until  they  said 
good-night  at  Mr.  Mitchel's  hotel.  Mr.  Thauret,  upon 
reaching  his  own  room,  smoked  a  cigar,  and  blew  little 
ringlets  over  his  head,  thus  occupying  himself  till  long 
after  midnight.  He  seemed  to  be  building  castles,  and 
from  the  satisfied  expression  on  his  face,  they  must  have 
been  grand  ones. 

Thus  matters  stood  when  the  day  dawned  upon  which 
the  marriage  was  to  occur.  Everything  was  bustle  and 
confusion  at  the  home  of  the  Remsens.  The  brides- 
maids arrived  early,  helped  to  deck  the  bride,  and  then 
stood  around  in  delighted  admiration.  Dora  was  in 
ecstasies.  Two  magnificent  bouquets  had  been  sent  to 
her,  one  entirely  of  carnation  pinks,  from  Mr.  Randolph, 
and  the  other  a  fine  assortment  of  cut-flowers,  amongst 
which  were  three  beautiful  Calla  lilies,  tied  with  long 
white  satin  ribbons.  These  were  the  gift  of  Mr.  Thauret. 
She  stood  admiring  the  flowers  for  a  few  moments,  then 
tenderly  untied  the  pinks,  and,  taking  a  few  of  each  color, 
made  a  small  bouquet,  which  she  pinned  just  at  the  open- 
ing of  her  dress  near  the  throat.  Thus  they  were  near 
enough  to  exhale  a  fragrance  of  which  she  would  be  con- 
tinually conscious.  Just  before  leaving  the  house,  how- 
ever, she  took  the  Callas  and  carried  them  with  her  in  her 
gloved  hand. 

Before  the  day  was  over  a  little  tragedy  occurred,  of 
which  she  was  not  only  innocent,  but  unconscious.  In 
the  throng  entering  the  church  her  pinks  were  swept  from 


AN   INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  2IQ 

her  breast,  and  in  her  excitement  she  did  not  observe  her 
loss.  Mr.  Randolph,  however,  the  groom's  best  man, 
noted  carefully  that  she  carried  flowers,  and  that  they 
were  not  his.  Subsequently  she,  in  reply  to  a  question 
from  him,  admitted  who  had  sent  them,  and  though  he 
made  no  remark,  he  slept  little  that  night.  Thus  easily 
men  suffer. 

Emily  was  dressed — but  there,  why  should  I  attempt  to 
describe  what  only  a  Worth  could  have  furnished,  and 
only  wealth  could  afford  ?  If  you  can  imagine  the  most 
beautiful  shade  and  quality  of  pearl-colored  silk,  and  add 
to  that  the  finest  of  lace,  and  to  that  the  most  marvellous 
profusion  of  tiny  ribbon  bows,  then,  as  I  hinted,  recall 
that  the  genius  of  Worth  designed  the  garment,  perhaps 
you  will  imagine  all  that  I  could  tell  you.  At  least  I  may 
say  that  as  the  bride  entered  the  church  on  the  arm  of 
that  magnificent  man,  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  who,  as  her 
father's  dearest  friend,  had  been  invited  to  take  his  place, 
every  woman  present  took  one  lingering  look  at  the 
woman  and  her  gown,  and  then  turned  to  her  neighbor 
to  express  her  admiration.  Moreover,  I  will  say  that 
the  sum  of  all  that  praise  was  not  enough  fully  to  de- 
scribe Emily  Remsen,  who  looked  every  inch  "  a  royal 
queen,"  as  Dora  delightedly  told  every  one  for  years 
afterward. 

But  after  the  bridal  party  had  passed,  people  naturally 
looked  for  the  groom,  and  they  wondered  not  to  see  him. 
Whispering  occurred,  and  inquiries  were  made  without 
satisfactory  response.  Some  thought  that  there  had  been 


220  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

a  mistake,  and  that  the  signal  had  been  given  to  the 
bride  and  her  friends  too  soon.  It  was  an  awkward  situa- 
tion, because  of  course,  once  having  reached  the  altar, 
they  could  not  turn  and  leave  the  church  again.  Conse- 
quently they  simply  stood  and  waited.  Every  one  at 
length  grew  so  nervous,  that  save  for  the  organ,  there 
gradually  stole  over  the  whole  edifice  a  solemn  silence. 
People  were  awed,  and  fearing  at  last  as  the  minutes 
passed  and  still  the  groom  did  not  appear,  that  something 
dreadful  either  had  or  was  about  to  occur,  they  almost 
held  their  breaths.  A  few  intimate  friends  went  out  on 
tip-toe,  but  the  door  leading  to  the  vestry-room  was 
guarded  by  a  man  in  livery,  who  would  say  nothing  but 
that  no  one  could  be  admitted. 

Meanwhile  an  exciting  scene,  though  a  brief  one,  was 
being  enacted  behind  that  door.  Just  as  the  two  parties 
were  about  to  start  on  their  way  to  the  altar,  a  carriage 
had  driven  up  furiously,  and  from  it  had  alighted  Mr. 
Barnes.  He  quickly  entered  the  building,  and  went 
straightway  into  the  vestry-room,  brushing  aside  the  man 
at  the  door.  Once  in  the  presence  of  the  groom  and  his 
gentlemen  attendants,  he  astonished  them  by  saying  : 

"  Thank  God,  I  am  not  too  late." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  "  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  with  provok- 
ing calmness. 

"I  have  come  here  to  stop  this  wedding,"  said  the 
detective,  a  little  excited. 

"  You  mean,  to  delay  it.  That  you  are  doing  now,  as 
I  should  be  on  my  way  to  the  altar  to  join  my  bride." 


AN   INTERRUPTED    WEDDING.  221 

"I  tell  you,  I  come  to  stop  this  wedding  altogether, 
and " 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Barnes.  There  is  no  time  to  lose, 
and  I  do  not  wish  you  to  speak  too  openly.  Let  me  talk 
for  you.  You  have  reasons,  which  I  can  guess,  for  wish- 
ing me  not  to  be  married.  Am  I  right  ?  " 

"  I  have  said  as  much." 

"  If  I  can  prove  to  you  that  you  gain  nothing  by  hin- 
dering this  ceremony,  will  you  allow  it  to  proceed,  and 
then  act  as  you  may  please  afterward,  instead  of  now  ? " 

"  Of  course,  but  that  is  impossible." 

"  Nothing  is  impossible,  Mr.  Barnes  ;  read  that  if  you 
please." 

Taking  from  his  pocket  a  folded  paper,  he  handed  it  to 
Mr.  Barnes,  who  took  it  nervously,  read  it,  and  looked  up 
amazed. 

"  This  is  an  outrage,  Mr.  Mitchel,  and " 

"  And  you  have  given  me  your  word  not  to  further 
interfere  at  this  time.  If  you  will  meet  me  at  my  hotel  at 
two  o'clock,  I  will  answer  whatever  other  demands  you 
may  have  upon  me.  I  think  you  know  that  you  may  trust 
me  to  keep  the  engagement.  Now,  gentlemen,  we  will 
proceed."  Saying  which  he  and  his  friends  filed  out  of 
the  room  and  down  the  aisle  of  the  church,  much  to  the 
relief  of  the  immense  throng  awaiting  them,  leaving  Mr. 
Barnes  utterly  discomfited.  The  ceremony  then  proceeded 
without  further  delay,  and  in  half  an  hour  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Leroy  Mitchel  were  taken  in  their  carriage  to  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel.  Mr.  Barnes  did  not  wait  to  see  them 


222  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

leave  the  Cathedral,  but  hurried  away  almost  immediately 
after  having  read  the  document  which  Mr.  Mitchel  had 
handed  to  him.  This  was  a  certificate  of  marriage  dated 
the  day  before,  and  performed  at  the  Mayor's  office. 
Thus,  whatever  reason  the  detective  had  for  stopping  the 
marriage,  the  telegram  from  Sefton  had  enabled  Mr. 
Mitchel  to  once  more  outwit  Mr.  Barnes,  by  simply  allow- 
ing a  civil  contract  to  antedate  the  religious  ceremony. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MR.    MITCHEL   EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS. 

IMMEDIATELY  upon  his  arrival  in  New  York,  Mr.  Barnes 
went  to  his  office.  Here  he  was  slightly  surprised  to  find 
Lucette. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  tersely. 

"  I  came  here,"  said  the  girl,  "  so  that  I  could  report  to 
you  the  minute  you  got  here.  There  is  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Why,  what  is  up  ? " 

"  Your  plan  about  my  getting  information  from  the  East 
Orange  post-office  did  not  work.  The  man  said  that 
though  he  would  like  to  serve  you,  he  was  afraid  it 
might  be  construed  into  tampering  with  the  mails.  That 
you  would  need  an  order  from  the  Postmaster-General.  I 
went  to  work  then  on  the  other  line,  and  began  a  syste- 
matic examination  of  every  house  in  the  place.  It  was 
hard  work,  but  at  last  I  found  the  child.  You  don't 
want  details  now,  because  she  has  been  taken  away  again. 
Mitchel  went  down  yesterday  and  brought  her  to  New 
York." 

"  Why  did  you  not  follow  him  and  see  where  he  took 
her?" 

"  I  did,  and  this  time  I  am  sure  he  did  not  suspect  that 
I  was  after  him.  He  took  the  child  to  the  Remsens-'" 

223 


224  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"To  the  Remsens  ?    What  can  that  mean  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  But  Mitchel  and  Miss  Remsen  are  to 
be  married  at  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  at  ten  o'clock  this 
morning." 

"  Not  if  I  can  stop  it,"  replied  the  detective,  and  he 
hastened  up  to  the  church  with  the  result  told  in  the  last 
chapter. 

Promptly  at  two  o'clock  Mr.  Barnes  presented  himself 
at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  accompanied  by  Mr.  Neuilly. 
They  were  asked  to  go  up  to  Mr.  Mitchel's  apartments, 
and  there  they  were  greeted  by  that  gentleman  as  affably 
as  though  they  had  been  of  his  wedding  party.  Indeed  he 
began  the  conversation  in  rather  a  jocular  way,  saying : 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  Barnes,  delighted  that  now  I  can  entertain 
you  more  at  my  leisure.  This  morning  you  see  I  was  in 
a  great  hurry.  You  called  at  a  very  inopportune  time,  and 
I  am  afraid  that  I  was  rather  abrupt." 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  I  am  not  in  the  humor  for  nonsense. 
This  is  a  very  serious  visit,  I  assure  you.  This  gentleman 
is  Mr.  Neuilly,  of  New  Orleans,  and  he  has  come  all  this 
distance  to  aid  the  cause  of  justice." 

"  Delighted  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Neuilly,  I  am  sure,"  said 
Mr.  Mitchel,  approaching  and  extending  his  hand  so  cor- 
dially that  the  elder  man  took  it,  though  he  had  thought 
that  he  would  rather  handle  hot  coals  than  the  hand  of 
the  man  who  he  supposed  was  guilty  of  wronging  the 
daughter  of  his  old  friend  in  the  South.  Mr.  Mitchel  did 
not  seem  to  notice  his  agitation,  but  begging  them  to  be 
seated,  he  himself  took  a  comfortable  chair  and  continued: 


MR.    MITCHEL   EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  225 

"  Now,  Mr.  Barnes,  I  am  wondering  if  it  is  possible  that 
you  have  traced  my  wife's  ruby  as  far  away  as  New 
Orleans  ? " 

"  I  have  not  been  Booking  for  it.  I  suppose  you  know 
why  I  wished  to  stop  your  marriage  ? " 

"  Why,  no  ;  not  precisely.     What  was  your  reason  ?  " 

"  If  you  do  not  know  it,  why  did  you  get  married 
yesterday  ? " 

"  I  might  reply  that  it  is  often  done,  but  I  will  be  honest 
and  tell  you  that  such  a  procedure  never  occurred  to  me 
till  I  heard  that  you  were  coming  home.  Then,  you  see,  I 
thought  that  you  might  take  the  idea  into  your  head — you 
do  get  odd  notions,  you  must  admit — that  I  ought  not  to 
get  married  just  now.  I  knew  you  well  enough  to  believe 
that  if  you  did  harbor  a  thought  of  that  nature  you  would 
not  hesitate  to  interfere.  I  did  you  no  injustice  there, 
for  that  is  just  what  you  tried  to  do,  you  see.  Conse- 
quently, as  I  had  set  my  heart  on  being  married  in  the 
Cathedral  precisely  at  the  time  appointed,  I  just  took  the 
bull  by  the  horns  and  persuaded  my  little  girl  to  marry 
me  yesterday.  That  is  my  story  in  full,  I  assure  you. 
Now,  what  was  your  object  ? " 

"  You  know  it  very  well,  and  all  this  yarning  is  pure 
bluster.  You  know  well  enough  that  I  wanted  to  use 
Miss  Emily  Remsen  as  a  witness  against  you,  and  that  I 
could  not  do  so  after  she  became  Mrs.  Mitchel." 

"  Oh  !  Well,  yes  ;  I  admit  that  idea  was  in  my  mind, 
Mr.  Barnes,  And  now — what  are  you  going  to  do 

about  it?" 
19 


226  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  In  the  first  place  I  shall  arrest  you  for  abducting  the 
child,  who  was  in  the  care  of  Rose  Montalbon."  Mr. 
Barnes  expected  some  surprise  from  his  adversary  but  he 
was  disappointed. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "  and  then  ?" 

"  Then  I  shall  compel  you,  through  the  court,  to  reveal 
her  present  hiding-place,  and  to  produce  her." 

"  I  think  you  might  have  trouble  to  do  that,  were  it  not 
that  I  do  not  object  to  it.  In  fact  we  will  reverse  your 
order  of  things  and  begin  with  the  production  of  the  child. 
Emily  !  "  In  answer  to  his  call,  his  wife  came  into  the 
room,  bringing  with  her  a  beautiful  girl.  Her  husband 
arose,  and  taking  the  little  one  by  the  hand,  coolly  ap- 
proached Mr.  Neuilly,  and  said,  "  Rose,  this  is  Mr.  Neuilly. 
He  was  a  dear  good  friend  to  your  mother,  and  has  come 
all  the  way  from  New  Orleans  to  see  you.  I  think  he 
would  like  to  kiss  you,  would  you  not,  Mr.  Neuilly  ? " 

That  gentleman  seemed  much  moved.  To  him  the 
vision  of  loveliness  standing  demurely  before  him,  brought 
back  the  memory  of  the  long  ago.  She  reminded  him  of 
another  little  girl  whose  growth  into  budding  womanhood 
he  had  watched  tenderly,  having  in  his  youth  loved  her 
mother,  the  grandparent  of  the  child  before  him.  His  suit 
had  not  been  successful,  and  for  love  of  that  woman  he  had 
remained  a  bachelor  all  his  days.  Now  he  could  see  chang- 
ing expressions  in  this  young  face,  which  reminded  him 
of  both  of  those  women  who  had  been  dear  to  him. 
Without  a  word,  he  drew  her  towards  him,  and  kissed 
her  once.  Then  he  arose,  still  holding  her  hand,  and 


MR.   MITCHEL  EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  22? 

lead  her  towards  the  door  of  the  next  room  ;  there  he 
kissed  her  once  more,  this  time  on  the  forehead,  and  then 
bade  her  wait,  shutting  the  door  after  she  left  him. 
Then  turning  with  a  fury  in  his  heart,  and  repressed 
passion  in  his  voice,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  either  you  are  the  most  contemptible 
villian  on  the  face  of  this  earth,  or  else  there  is  some 
hideous  mistake  here.  Explain  it,  man,  I  must  know  at 
once  ! " 

"  Must,  Mr.  Neuilly,  is  a  word  that  I  seldom  obey.  But 
I  know  how  you  have  suffered,  and  have  no  desire  to 
prolong  this  interview  a  moment  more  than  is  absolutely 
necessary.  First,  however,  I  must  understand  the  situa- 
tion. What  do  you  and  Mr.  Barnes  here  think  it  to  be  ?" 

"  I  will  explain  briefly,"  said  the  detective,  "  provided 
your  wife  will  withdraw." 

"  My  wife  is  now  a  part  of  myself,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel, 
proudly  placing  an  arm  around  her  as  she  stood  beside 
him.  "  You  need  not  hesitate  to  speak.  She  has  prom- 
ised to  share  my  life  with  me,  to  take  me  as  I  am.  She 
will  begin  the  task  at  once.  Go  on." 

"  So  be  it.  I  know  now  that  Rose  Mitchel,  who  was 
murdered,  was  known  in  New  Orleans  as  Rose  Montal- 
bon,  and  that  she  was  your  wife.  I  have  also  discovered 
that  you  deceived  a  young  Creole,  the  mother  of  that 
child  who  has  just  left  us.  That  when  you  deserted 
her,  she  died  broken  hearted,  whilst  you  allowed  the 
Montalbon  woman  to  take  the  girl  and  pass  it  off  as  her 
own,  though  later  she  was  kidnapped  by  you.  The  woffl- 


228  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

an  suspected  that  you  would  wish  to  marry  again,  and 
swore  to  prevent  it.  Her  appearance  upon  the  scene 
just  as  you  were  to  become  a  husband,  must  have 
been  a  menace  to  you.  Do  you  see  the  point  ?  Mur- 
ders have  been  committed  with  less  motive.  I  think 
therefore  that  I  have  sufficient  evidence  upon  which  to 
arrest  you." 

"You  might  arrest  me  upon  less  evidence,"  said  Mr. 
Mitchel.  "  It  is  done  every  day.  But  to  convict  me  you 
would  have  to  prove  all  this." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  cannot  prove  it  ? " 

"  For  the  very  simple  reason,  that  your  facts  are  all 
wrong." 

"  Very  good,  Mr.  Mitchel,  but  you  will  have  to  prove 
that" 

"  I  am  fully  prepared  to  do  so.  To  begin  with,  according 
to  your  story,  I  abducted  this  child.  There  you  are  only 
partly  right.  I  did  take  her  away  from  the  Montalbon, 
and  I  did  it  as  you  might  say,  by  stealth  and  force.  But 
I  had  the  fullest  right  to  do  so." 

"  You  admit  then  that  you  are  her  father?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  deny  it,  and  there  is  the  weak  point 
in  your  story.  Your  argument  all  depends  upon  my  hav- 
ing been  guilty  of  wronging  that  girl's  mother,  and  the 
Montalbon's  having  me  in  her  power.  In  point  of  fact, 
I  am  not  her  father,  and  the  Montalbon  had  but  a  slim 
chance  to  blackmail  me." 

"  But  you  admitted  to  me  that  you  allowed  her  to  do 
so.  That  you  gave  her  a  large  amount,  in  jewels." 


MR.   MITCHEL   EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  229 

"  That  is  true,  yet  I  did  not  submit  to  blackmail." 

"  Mr.  Mitchel  I  seldom  forget  a  man's  words.  You 
told  me  that  day  in  the  vaults  that  you  were  in  the  wom- 
an's power,  that  she  could  ventilate  certain  scandals 
which  might  break  your  engagement.  Yet  now  you  say 
you  were  not  in  her  power  and  that  you  did  not  submit  to 
blackmail.  How  can  you  explain  such  conflicting  state- 
ments ? " 

"  Two  conflicting  statements  may  both  be  true,  provided 
a  lapse  of  time  occurs  between  them.  When  I  admitted 
that  I  had  been  in  the  power  of  that  woman,  I  thought 
so,  therefore  I  spoke  the  truth.  When  I  say  now  that  I 
was  not,  I  also  speak  truly.  In  the  interval,  I  have  learned 
to  appreciate  the  character  of  the  woman  who  is  now  my 
wife.  That  is  all.  I  know  now  that  the  Montalbon's  story 
blazoned  forth  to  the  world,  would  not  have  affected  her 
faith  in  me,  if  I  had  told  her  my  own  version." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  gentlemen,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Neuilly,  "  stop  this  argument,  and  get  down  to  the  facts. 
I  am  impatient  to  know  the  truth." 

"  Yes,  Roy,"  said  Emily,  "  why  not  simply  tell  the  story 
as  a  narrative,  and  let  the  whole  truth  be  known  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  mean  to  do.  I  have  only  been  enjoy- 
ing a  little  sparring  with  Mr.  Barnes.  But  it  is  cruel  to 
Mr.  Neuilly,  who  I  hope  will  pardon  me.  To  begin  at 
the  beginning,  I  must  go  back  to  my  youth  in  New  Orleans. 
I  was  in  love  with  a  beautiful  young  girl."  Here  he 
pressed  his  wife's  hand,  and  she  returned  it,  as  though  to 
say  that  she  understood.  "  I  think  I  need  not  mention 


230  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

the  name  of  Rose's  mother,  Mr.  Neuilly,  unless  you  have 
already  done  so." 

"Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  have  betrayed  the 
secret,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  I  did  not  suppose  that  you  had,  for  I  know  you  to  be 
a  true  man,  though  I  have  never  met  you  before.  This 
statement  may  surprise  you,  but  it  is  true.  I  am  not  the 
man  for  whom  you  take  me.  He  is  now  in  a  lunatic 
asylum,  whilst  I  am  his  cousin.  I  know  it  is  supposed 
that  I  am  the  crazy  man,  but  that  is  an  error,  promulgated 
by  the  Montalbon  to  serve  her  own  ends.  The  facts  then 
are  thus :  Whilst  a  boy  at  school  I  loved  my  girl  com- 
panion, little  Rose's  mother.  Just  before  I  left  the  South 
to  enter  Harvard,  I  told  my  little  girl  sweetheart — she  was 
then  but  fifteen — that  I  would  marry  her  upon  my  return. 
This  was  my  first  love,  and  hers.  I  had  a  cousin,  older 
than  myself  by  ten  years,  handsome  and  wealthy,  but  a 
gambler,  and  addicted  to  heavy  drinking.  This  woman 
Montalbon,  as  you  know,  kept  a  gambling  den  and 
naturally  my  unfortunate  cousin  was  a  constant  visitor  at 
the  house.  One  night  whilst  intoxicated  with  wine,  she 
persuaded  him  to  marry  her,  a  clergyman  being  called  in 
and  a  ceremony  privately  performed.  He  became  entirely 
sober  only  after  several  days  had  passed,  and  then  had 
entirely  forgotten  about  the  marriage.  The  scheming 
devil,  Montalbon,  did  not  remind  him  of  it,  but  by  patient 
work  insidiously  persuaded  him  that  he  should  be  a 
married  man.  She  even  suggested  a  bride,  none  other 
than  my  little  sweetheart.  Her  object  in  this  was  twofold, 


MR.    MITCHEL   EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  231 

money  and  revenge.  By  leading  my  cousin  into  a  biga- 
mous alliance,  with  her  own  marriage  certificate  as  a 
weapon,  she  could  readily  extort  money  from  him.  Her 
revenge  was  to  be  against  the  family  of  my  little  sweet- 
heart, against  whom  she  thought  she  had  a  grievance. 
Her  plotting  was  entirely  successful.  My  cousin  was 
handsome,  I  was  away,  and  once  he  had  become  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  young  Creole's  charms,  he  became  so 
ardent  a  suitor,  that  at  length  she  listened  to  his  pleading 
and  married  him.  Then  he  was  in  the  power  of  the 
Montalbon,  and  she  bled  him  for  five  years,  by  which  time 
little  Rose  had  been  born. 

"  Meanwhile  I  had  completed  my  college  career,  but 
had  not  returned  to  New  Orleans  because  of  my  deep 
disappointment  upon  learning  that  my  sweetheart  had 
married  another  man.  At  this  time  I  was  in  Paris,  when 
one  day  I  received  a  piteous  letter  from  the  girl-wife 
telling  me  that  the  blow  had  fallen,  that  the  Montalbon 
had  produced  her  marriage  certificate  and  claimed  her 
husband,  thus  dishonoring  the  daughter  of  her  enemy. 
The  letter  also  begged  my  forgiveness  for  the  wrong  done 
to  me.  I  read  between  the  lines  and  recognized  the  cry 
of  a  broken  heart,  the  bleat  of  a  lamb  left  to  die  on  the 
frozen  plain.  I  hurried  home  with  but  one  thought 
uppermost,  to  have  revenge  upon  my  cousin.  I  arrived 
too  late.  Not  only  was  the  girl  dead,  but  my  cousin  had 
disappeared. 

"I  heard  that  he  had  gone  out  West,  and  thither  I 
followed  him,  I  would  get  track  of  him  from  time  to 


2J2  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

time,  but  it  seemed  fated  always  that  he  should  have  just 
left  a  place  when  I  confidently  expected  to  come  up  with 
him.  Thus  five  years  passed,  and  at  last  I  did  meet  him. 
I  at  once  charged  him  with  his  crime,  and  asked  for 
revenge.  He  laughed  at  me  and  refused  to  fight.  I  then 
warned  him  that  I  should  take  his  life  at  the  first  chance 
that  offered,  when  I  could  do  so  either  under  seeming 
provocation,  or  else  where  I  could  not  be  suspected." 

"  Are  you  not  admitting,"  interrupted  Mr.  Barnes,  "  that 
you  harbored  a  murderous  spirit  ? " 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  if  all  men  were  punished  for  their 
thoughts,  the  criminal  class  would  be  greatly  enlarged. 
You  cannot  call  me  to  account  for  anything  except  my 
acts.  At  last  my  chance  came.  I  followed  him  one  dark 
night  as  he  went  off  prospecting  in  an  entirely  new  direc- 
tion ;  we  were  in  a  mining  country.  He  tramped  most  of 
the  night  and  I  pursued.  By  dawn  we  were  miles  away 
from  a  habitation.  I  then  made  myself  known  to  him, 
and  once  more  asked  him  to  fight  it  out.  He  saw  that  I 
was  in  earnest,  and  that  he  was  simply  compelled  to  battle 
for  his  life.  Under  these  circumstances  of  course  he 
fought,  as  the  worst  coward  must  do,  when  driven  to 
desperation.  He  decided  to  use  pistols,  though  I  wished 
to  try  our  cause  with  knives.  I  confess  that  I  wanted  the 
satisfaction  of  stabbing  him  again  and  again.  I  wanted 
to  see  his  life's  blood  flow  at  each  stroke.  It  seemed  to 
me  tame  to  stand  off  at  a  distance  and  send  one  little 
leaden  ball  in  his  direction.  Still  I  admitted  his  right  of 
choice,  and  determined  to  aim  as  accurately  as  possible 


MR.    MITCHEL    EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  233 

and  to  send  my  bullet  straight.  You  see  I  did  not  think 
of  my  own  life.  I  had  made  this  vengeance  my  one  object, 
and  after  accomplishing  that,  I  thought  there  would  be 
nothing  more  for  me  to  do.  Consequently  I  expected  to 
kill  him  easily,  and  I  did  not  care  if  his  bullet  found  my 
heart  or  not.  Perhaps  I  hoped  it  would.  Just  as  we  were 
standing  up  and  preparing  to  fight,  something  occured  that 
almost  completely  unnerved  me  and  changed  the  whole 
result.  He  lowered  his  pistol  and  said  : 

"  '  Wait  a  moment ;  I  have  a  favor  to  ask.  I  feel  cer- 
tain that  you  will  kill  me.  You  have  been  seeking  my 
life  so  long,  that  I  am  sure  you  will  get  it.  It  is  fate.  But 
I  too  have  suffered  in  the  last  five  years.  The  favor  that 
I  ask  is,  that  if  I  die  you  will  promise  to  get  my  child  out 
of  that  fiend's  clutches.'  " 

"'Your  child,'  I  gasped.      '  I  thought  it  died.' 

" '  That  was  the  Montalbon's  lie.  The  little  girl  lived, 
and  she  took  it.  I  have  made  a  will  in  favor  of  my  child, 
leaving  her  all  my  wealth  ;  you  will  find  it  in  my  coat. 
Oddly  enough,  I  named  you  as  executor.  I  knew  that 
you  had  loved  the  mother,  though,  as  God  is  my  judge, 
I  did  not  know  it  when  I  married  her.  But  I  am  ready 
if  you  are.' 

"  Thus  we  stood  up  and  fired  at  each  other.  The  start- 
ling news  just  received  made  my  aim  bad,  for  instead 
of  hitting  him  in  the  heart,  as  I  could  easily  have  done, 
my  bullet  struck  him  in  the  head.  He  fell,  and  I  rushed 
towards  him,  to  discover  whether  he  was  badly  hurt.  He 
was  bleeding  profusely,  and  I  hastily  bandaged  up  the 


234  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

wound,  and  so  stopped  the  flow  of  blood.  I  then  went 
on  to  the  next  mining  camp  beyond.  We  returned  with 
a  litter,  and  took  him  back.  There  was  a  man  amongst 
us  who  claimed  that  he  had  studied  medicine,  and  he 
attended  my  cousin.  He  removed  the  bullet,  and  found 
that  the  wound  was  not  very  deep,  but  the  skull  was  frac- 
tured. He  was  ill  for  two  months,  and  then  slowly  recov- 
ered his  health.  But  his  reason  was  entirely  gone.  I 
took  him  to  New  Orleans  and  placed  him  in  an  asylum, 
and  there  he  has  been  ever  since." 

"Very  good,  Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  Mr.  Barnes.  "But 
what  proof  have  you  that  you  are  not  the  father,  and  the 
lunatic  the  innocent  cousin,  as  so  many  believe  ?  " 

"Why,  in  the  first  place,  though  we  had  the  same  name, 
we  are  totally  unlike  in  feature.  I  think  Mr.  N^uilly  will 
admit  that  he  would  not  have  recognized  me,  and  he  knew 
the  guilty  man.  However,  we  will  take  that  up  later.  I 
have  no  fear  of  not  proving  my  identity.  Too  many  people 
in  New  Orleans  know  me.  To  continue  my  tale,  I  deter- 
mined to  get  possession  of  the  child.  I  knew  that  the 
Montalbon  would  resist,  and  that  I  would  find  it  difficult 
to  prove  my  story.  More  than  all,  I  knew  that  I  could 
not  obtain  legal  possession  of  her  without  disclosing  the 
secret  of  her  birth,  which  I  wished  to  avoid  for  her  own 
sake,  as  well  as  for  her  mother's.  I  therefore  stole  her 
openly  in  the  streets.  Detectives  were  sent  out  to  search 
for  me,  but  perhaps  Mr.  Barnes  will  testify  that  I  am  not 
much  afraid  of  detectives.  Perhaps,  too,  he  will  under- 
stand better  now  why  I  know  something  about  detective 


MR.    MITCHEL    EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  235 

methods.  I  led  them  a  dance  for  two  years,  until  in  dis- 
gust they  abandoned  the  search.  Then  I  went  abroad, 
for  I  must  tell  you  that  as  long  as  I  was  hounded  I 
remained  close  at  hand.  I  enjoyed  the  excitement.  It 
made  me  forget,  or  at  least  it  gave  me  occupation.  I 
remained  in  Europe  until  my  recent  return  to  New  York. 
It  was  not  very  long  after  that,  when  I  received  the  letter 
from  the  Montalbon,  and  the  photograph  which  I  showed 
to  you.  I  recognized  the  picture,  though  of  course  I 
should  not  have  known  the  signature,  which  was  Rose 
Mitchel.  I  did  not  fear  the  woman,  but  I  expected  some 
enjoyment  at  her  discomfiture  when  I  should  tell  her  to  do 
her  worst.  I  was  not  prepared  for  what  occurred.  When 
she  met  me  she  began  by  saying : 

' '  I  have  not  the  least  idea  of  attempting  to  blackmail 
you,  though  perhaps  I  could  do  that.  But  I  have  that  to 
sell  which  I  think  you  would  be  glad  to  buy.'  I  asked 
what  it  was,  and  she  told  me  : 

' '  A  certificate  of  marriage  between  your  cousin  and 
the  child's  mother.  A  certificate  of  marriage  between  him 
and  myself,  antedating  that,  and  another  certificate  of 
marriage  between  myself  and  another  man  who  was  alive 
at  the  time  that  I  inveigled  your  cousin  into  marrying 
me.' " 

"  Great  heaven  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Neuilly;  "  if  she  had 
those  papers  they  would  prove  that  her  marriage  to  your 
cousin  was  illegal,  and  that  would  make  the  marriage  to 
Rose's  mother  perfectly  regular." 

"  Exactly  so.     I  paid  the  woman  ten  thousand  dollars, 


236  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

or  the  equivalent  of  that  sum,  for  those  documents. 
Were  they  not  worth  it  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  indeed  they  are.  I  would  have  given  twice 
the  sum." 

"Now  let  me  show  you  the  audacity  of  the  woman. 
She  told  me  that  in  case  I  should  refuse  to  pay  her  price, 
she  intended  to  claim  me  as  her  husband,  exhibiting  her 
certificate,  and  leaving  me  to  prove,  if  I  could,  that  she 
had  married  my  cousin  and  not  myself.  This,  you  see, 
would  have  been  most  unpleasant,  and  as  the  papers 
were  well  worth  the  price,  in  clearing  the  name  of  my 
cousin  and  his  wife  and  child,  I  paid  over  the  money." 

"I  must  again  ask  you,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  "for  proof 
that  you  are  not  the  woman's  husband." 

"  Does  not  the  fact  that  she  sold  me  those  papers  indi- 
cate that  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  detective.  "  Supposing  you  to 
be  really  her  husband,  wishing  to  be  married  to  Miss 
Remsen,  you  would  readily  pay  the  woman  her  price  for 
the  paper  which  proved  that  your  marriage  to  her  had  been 
fraudulent.  You  might  have  found  it  difficult  to  prove 
the  existence  of  her  first  husband  without  knowing  his 
name,  even  though  she  had  given  you  the  hint  that  there 
was  such  a  person." 

"  I  declare,  Mr.  Barnes,  you  are  a  doubting  Thomas. 
But  I  will  give  you  one  more  bit  of  evidence."  He  went 
to  his  desk  and  returned  with  some  papers.  "  Here  is  a 
confession  which  I  exacted  from  the  woman  at  the  time 
that  I  made  the  bargain  with  her.  You  see,  it  confirms  my 


MR.    MITCHEL   EXPLAINS   A    FEW    THINGS.  2J7 

ftory.  But  even  that  you  might  think  manufactured. 
Here  perhaps  is  better  proof.  This,"  handing  it  to  Mr. 
Neuilly,  "  is  the  certificate  of  the  marriage  between  my 
cousin  and  the  Montalbon.  As  is  sometimes  done,  you 
see,  the  woman  has  pasted  the  likenesses  of  herself  and 
my  cousin  upon  the  paper.  Now,  Mr.  Neuilly,  I  ask  you, 
is  not  that  the  man  who  was  known  to  you  ?  " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Mitchel.  I  recognize  the 
face  perfectly.  This  is  the  man  I  have  all  along  supposed 
to  be  a  consummate  villain.  Now  I  must  confess  that 
he  was  more  sinned  against  than  sinning.  His  one  crime 
was  drinking,  and  the  entanglement  which  wrecked  his 
wife's  life  and  his  own  was  but  a  wicked  plot  of  which  he 
was  innocent.  I  am  glad  that  it  is  so,  as  it  leaves  the 
dear  little  girl  without  the  danger  of  hereditary  taint." 

"  Come,  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  what  have 
you  to  say  now  ?  " 

Mr.  Barnes's  reply  was  calculated  to  startle  his  hearers, 
but  seemed  to  have  little  effect.  He  said  : 

"  Mr.  Mitchel,  who  do  you  think  killed  Rose  Mitchel  ?  " 

"I  don't  think  I  am  bound  to  answer,"  replied  Mr. 
Mitchel,  quickly. 

"  I  wish  you  a  good-afternoon,"  said  the  detective, 
dryly.  "  Will  you  go  with  me,  Mr.  Neuilly  ?  " 

Before  the  old  gentleman  could  reply  Mrs.  Mitchel 
interposed  : 

"  Don't  go,  Mr.  Neuilly.  You  have  seen  nothing  of 
Rose  yet,  and  besides  we  would  like  you  to  attend  our 
reception  to-night." 


238  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  Ha  !  Ha  !  Mr.  Barnes  !  Is  she  not  worthy  of  being 
my  wife  ?  She  takes  your  witness  away  from  you,  for  I 
think  you  will  stay,  will  you  not,  Mr.  Neuilly  ? " 

"  It  will  be  a  joy  to  do  so.  Mr.  Barnes,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances I  know  you  will  excuse  me,  and  forgive  me, 
will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  You  are  right  to  stay.  I  will  leave  you 
all  to  your  happiness.  And  I  hope  it  will  last.  Good- 
day,"  with  which  he  left  them. 

"  Really  it  is  too  bad,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  but  these 
detectives  are  always  so  sanguine.  Just  think  of  it, 
Queen,  he  thinks,  or  he  thought,  perhaps,  would  be  more 
correct,  that  you  were  a  murderer's  wife.  What  do  you 
say,  eh  ? " 

For  answer  she  kissed  him  gently  on  the  forehead,  and 
then  went  out  and  brought  back  Rose. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MR.  BARNES  DISCOVERS  A  VALUABLE    CLUE. 

IMMEDIATELY  after  the  wedding  Mr.  Mitchel  and  his 
bride  started  west,  intending  to  spend  their  honeymoon 
in  the  Yosemite  Valley,  having  promised  Mrs.  Remsen 
and  Dora,  however,  to  join  them  in  the  White  Mountains 
before  the  end  of  the  season.  About  the  first  of  July  the 
Remsens  and  the  Van  Rawlstons  went  to  Jefferson,  New 
Hampshire,  a  small  town  along  the  base  of  the  Pliny 
Range  of  mountains,  from  which  a  magnificent  view  of 
the  Presidential  Range,  only  ten  miles  away,  is  to  be 
obtained.  About  the  middle  of  the  month  Mr.  Randolph 
determined  to  visit  the  same  place,  and  was  intensely 
disgusted  on  alighting  from  the  stage,  which  reaches  the 
Waumbeck  Hotel  about  eight  o'clock  at  night,  to  be 
greeted  familiarly  by  Mr.  Alphonse  Thauret.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  his  rival  did  not  intend  to  lose  any  chance  to 
win  the  hand  of  Dora  Remsen 

If  one  has  anything  of  the  artistic  in  his  nature  he  could 
scarcely  fail  to  enjoy  himself  at  Jefferson.  The  town  is 
practically  a  single  road,  well  up  the  side  of  the  mountain 
range.  Thus  the  hotels  all  look  out  over  a  long  and 
beautiful  valley.  From  the  piazza  of  the  Waumbeck,  on 
a  clear  day,  no  less  than  thirty-five  mountain  peaks  can 


240  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

be  easily  counted,  the  Green  Mountains  over  in  Vermont 
being  visible  as  a  distant  line  of  blue,  and  not  in  the  total. 

Of  course  the  most  conspicuous  and  most  admired 
peak  is  Mount  Washington.  One  who  has  not  visited  the 
region  might  suppose  that  he  would  soon  become  sated 
with  the  sight  of  the  same  mountains  day  after  day.  This 
is  a  great  error.  All  the  mountains,  and  especially  Mount 
Washington,  are  ever  presenting  new  aspects.  All  changes 
of  atmosphere  produce  corresponding  variations.  The 
shadows  of  passing  clouds,  the  effects  at  sunrise  or  at 
sunset,  the  moonlight,  the  partly  cloudy  weather  when  the 
top  of  the  mountain  is  hidden,  the  mists,  and  the  rain, 
all  offer  such  totally  different  coloring  and  picturesque 
effects  that  the  artistic  eye  is  never  tired. 

Dora  was  an  artist  in  every  fibre  of  her  being,  as  one 
would  know  who  listened  to  her  talking  to  Mr.  Randolph 
half  an  hour  after  his  arrival,  as  they  sat  together  on  the 
piazza.  In  his  delight  to  be  with  her  and  to  hear  her,  he 
would  have  forgotten  the  very  existence  of  Mr.  Thauret 
were  it  not  that  he  sat  near  them  in  the  rotunda  at  the 
end  of  the  piazza,  and  so  shared  the  entertainment  that 
she  offered. 

"  What  a  pity,"  she  was  saying,  "  that  you  did  not  come 
up  yesterday.  You  have  missed  the  grandest  sights 
that  mortal  ever  beheld.  I  suppose  on  your  trip  up 
you  saw  nothing  beautiful  in  the  rain-storm  that  we  had 
this  afternoon  ? " 

"  Nothing  whatever,"  said  Mr.  Randolph.  "  However 
it  may  have  been  here  among  the  mountains,  the  rain  did 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS    A    VALUABLE   CLUE.        241 

not  make  the  valleys  more  attractive.  Indeed  I  thought 
it  simply  a  beastly  day." 

"  What  a  mistake  that  you  were  not  here  instead  of  in 
the  horrid  cars.  Why,  I  tell  you  that  I  have  n't  words 
with  which  to  describe  the  magnificent  pictures  that  I 
have  enjoyed.  Yet  I  am  about  to  try.  You  must  not 
lose  it  all,  you  know.  May  I  tell  you  about  it  ?  " 

"Assuredly  ;  I  shall  be  delighted." 

"  Well,  then,  to  begin  ;  look  out  over  the  valley.  What 
do  you  see  ?  " 

"  The  moonlight  shedding  a  beautiful  ray  over  the 
lake." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Dora,  laughing  heartily.  "That  is  just 
the  funny  mistake  I  thought  you  would  make.  That  is 
not  a  lake  at  all.  It  is  mist,  or  clouds  rather.  In  the 
morning  if  I  had  not  told  you,  you  would  have  been 
astonished  to  find  that  your  lake  is  all  trees  and  meadows. 
To  begin,  then  ;  about  four  o'clock  it  began  to  cloud  up. 
That  was  very  interesting.  The  sun  was  shining  brightly 
here,  but  we  could  see  that  it  was  raining  hard  over  in  the 
direction  of  Lancaster.  Slowly  it  began  to  come  toward 
U3.  Some  of  the  boys  made  wagers  as  to  how  soon  it 
would  rain  here.  Then  one  of  the  proprietors  came  out, 
and  surprised  us  all  by  saying  that  it  would  probably  rain 
over  on  the  Presidential  Range  before  it  did  here.  This 
seemed  extraordinary  to  us,  you  know,  because  why  should 
it  skip  right  over  us  and  go  to  the  big  mountains  ?  " 

"  Well,  did  it  ?      It  does  seem  impossible." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  occurred.     You  see,  it  is  like 

16 


242  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

this  :  Whenever  a  storm  comes  from  Lancaster  way,  the 
clouds  when  they  get  here  are  divided  by  the  Pliny  Range, 
and  pass  on  either  side,  leaving  us  dry.  Then  they  strike 
against  the  sides  of  the  Presidential  Range,  and  roll  back 
into  our  valley.  It  was  a  curious  sight,  I  assure  you,  to 
see  the  clouds  flying  in  exactly  opposite  directions." 

./ell,  but  after  all,  there  could  not  have  been  any 
great  beauty  in  the  rain.  It  must  have  blotted  out  all  the 
view." 

"Yes,  but  think  how  odd  it  was  to  find  all  these 
tremendous  peaks  suddenly  gone.  Not  a  mountain  in 
sight  in  any  direction.  But  then,  the  thunder.  Oh  ! 
that  was  grand.  The  way  it  rolls  about  and  reverberates 
gives  one  a  good  idea  of  a  great  battle.  There  was  some- 
thing afterwards  that  carried  out  this  similarity,  too,  which 
I  wish  I  could  describe.  It  was  after  the  storm  had  passed 
and  the  bright-setting  sun  shone  forth.  Try  to  see  the  pic- 
ture. Imagine  yourself  sitting  just  where  I  am  now,  and 
looking  toward  the  Presidential  Range,  the  sun  setting  red 
behind  us.  Mount  Washington  had  shaken  the  clouds 
from  his  head,  and  was  encircled  by  a  gorgeous  halo,  in 
the  form  of  a  brilliant  double  rainbow.  One  end  of  it 
seemed  to  come  up  right  out  of  the  valley  there,  whilst 
the  other  disappeared  behind  Starr  King  Mountain.  The 
flying  clouds,  still  black  and  heavy,  whirled  swiftly  along, 
hanging  low,  and,  with  the  sun  approaching  the  horizon, 
made  shifting  shadows  across  the  base  of  Mount  Washing- 
ton, whilst  between  the  rifts  the  red  rays  of  the  sun  strik- 
ing different  parts  made  beauteous  tintings  among  the 


MR.   BARNES  DISCOVERS  A   VALUABLE  CLUE.        243 

green  and  the  brown  of  trees  and  rock.  Oh,  if  an  artist 
could  only  have  seen  that.  But  then  it  would  have  been 
useless,  for  the  hand  of  man  could  not  paint  such  grandeur. 
It  was  in  the  foreground  that  the  resemblance  to  the 
battle-field  was  to  be  seen  again.  Every  here  and  there 
stray  bits  of  clouds  disentangled  themselves  from  the  tree- 
tops  and  rose  up  smoke-like  till  one  could  imagine  them 
to  be  from  thousands  of  camp-fires.  Oh  !  it  was  simply 
wonderful." 

"  It  was  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Thauret ;  "and  your  descrip- 
tion brings  it  all  back  again  to  me." 

"  Then  the  beautiful  long  twilight,"  Dora  continued, 
almost  unheeding,  "  that  was  lovely.  Slowly  these  stray 
bits  of  mist  met  and  joined  others,  till  as  the  darkness 
came  and  the  moon  brightened,  that  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  for  after  all  your  lake  is  real  water,  accumulated, 
and  there  it  is.  At  least  you  can  enjoy  that." 

He  did.  But  what  he  enjoyed  more  was  the  simple 
happiness  of  being  with  her.  After  a  short  time,  however, 
he  was  deprived  of  that,  for  Mrs.  Remsen  claimed  his 
attention,  and  took  him  up  to  the  ball-room  to  introduce 
him  to  some  of  the  many  young  women  who  were  dancing 
with  each  other  and  with  boys  of  fourteen  for  want  of 
better  partners. 

If  Mr.  Thauret  annoyed  Mr.  Randolph  by  being  at  this 
resort,  the  former  gentleman  was  none  the  more  pleased 
at  his  arrival.  Being  left  alone  with  Dora,  and  construing 
her  present  mood  to  be  one  favorable  to  his  wooing,  he 
determined  to  speak  to  her  before  the  other  man  might  find 


244  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

a  chance.  Moving  his  chair  nearer  hers,  he  began,  get- 
ting to  his  subject  without  much  circumlocution. 

"  Miss  Dora,"  said  he,  "  do  you  recall  a  conversation 
that  I  had  with  you  one  day  ?  I  mean  about  loneliness, 
and  the  longing  one  has  for  companionship  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  frankly,  "  why  ?  Do  you  wish  to 
continue  it  now  ?  " 

"  If  you  please.  You  remember  you  said  you  would  be 
better  able  to  do  so  after  your  sister's  marriage." 

"  Because  I  thought  that  I  would  miss  her  so  much  and 
be  lonely  myself,  was  not  that  it  ?  Well,  of  course  I 
have  missed  Queen  very  much,  but  I  have  scarcely  been 
lonely.  You  have  taken  care  of  that,  and  I  am  sure  that 
I  am  very  grateful  to  you.  You  have  been  very  nice  to 
me." 

"  You  think  so  ?    You  admit  that  ?  "    He  spoke  eagerly. 

"  Why,  yes  !     Why  not,  since  it  is  true  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  but  then  you  know  so  many  young  ladies 
hide  their  feelings.  I  mean  suppression  of  all  emotion  is 
considered  so  necessary  in  a  woman  in  these  days." 

"  Suppression  !  "  and  she  laughed  heartily.  "  Now  do 
you  think  that  I  could  ever  be  suppressed  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  and  certainly  I  hope  that  you  never  will 
be.  But  if  you  have  not  been  lonely,  perhaps  you  have 
thought  some  of  that  other  subject,  love,  I  mean." 

"  Oh  !     That  !  " 

"Yes.  That  is  one  question,  supreme  to  me,  about 
which  I  wish  to  have  your  views.  Do  you  think  you 
would  be  happier  or  unhappier, — if  you  were  married  ?  " 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS    A    VALUABLE   CLUE.        245 

"  That  is  a  question.  It  would  depend  upon — my 
husband,  would  it  not  ?  " 

"  Suppose  that  we  were " 

"  Don't  call  names,  please.  I  could  n't  suppose  such  a 
thing.  I  have  promised  not  to." 

"  Promised  not  to,  I  don't  understand  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  I  have  made  a  bet.  You  don't  think  I 
am  horrid  to  bet,  do  you  ?  Of  course  you  don't.  Well, 
I  have  made  a  curious  bet  with  Bob,  Mr.  Mitchel,  you 
know.  I  call  him  Bob  now,  and  I  used  to  do  it  some- 
times before.  That  was  when  I  wanted  him  to  do  any- 
thing for  me.  It  made  him  feel  like  one  of  the  family. 
Well,  to  tell  you  about  my  bet.  You  see,  sometimes, 
when  Emily  was  out,  Bob  would  play  make  love  to  me. 
He  said  it  would  be  good  practice  for  me  ;  would  teach 
me  the  ways  of  the  world  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Oh  ! 
Bob  is  a  curious  man,  but  he  is  great  sport.  Don't  you 
like  him  ? " 

"  Immensely.  But  you  have  not  told  me  yet  about 
your  bet." 

"  I  am  coming  to  it.  Well,  one  day  when  he  was  mak- 
ing love  to  me,  and  I  was  doing  my  best,  suddenly  he 
burst  out  laughing,  and  said  :  '  Dora,  I  '11  bet  you  '11  be 
engaged  within  six  months  of  our  marriage.'  '  How 
much  ? '  said  I.  'As  much  as  you  like,'  said  he.  I  asked 
him  if  he  would  make  it  a  thousand  dollars,  and  he 
whistled  and  called  me  a  little  gambler.  But  I  don't 
think  it  was  gambling,  because  I  was  to  have  a  certainty. 
Of  course  I  wanted  the  stake  to  be  a  large  one.  So  it 


246  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

was  agreed,  and  he  wrote  it  down  on  paper.  I  '11  show 
it  to  you  sometime  if  you  like.  If  I  am  not  engaged 
before  the  ist  of  January,  Bob  will  have  to  pay  me  a 
thousand  dollars." 

"  And  you  mean  to  win  that  bet  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do.  I  am  young  and  can  afford  to  wait  that 
long,  I  am  sure.  There  will  be  time  enough  afterwards 
to  get  a  husband." 

"  Then  it  would  not  make  any  difference  how  anxious 
a  suitor  might  be  to  have  his  reply  at  once  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not.  If  a  man  did  not  love  me  enough 
to  wait  a  few  months  for  his  answer  I  should  think  myself 
well  rid  of  him.  Besides  it  would  give  me  a  chance  to 
study  him." 

"  Suppose — but  no — I  do  ask  you.  Miss  Dora — Dora 
— I  love  you  madly,  passionately,  and " 

"  Well,  don't  say  any  more.  If  that  is  true,  and  you 
love  me  madly,  passionately,  why  then  you  will  surely 
wait  till  January  for  your  answer."  This  was  said  rather 
curtly,  and  Mr.  Thauret's  hopes  sank,  but  rose  again  to 
fever  heat  as  she  said,  very  softly  :  "  There,  I  did  not 
mean  to  hurt  you.  You  must  not  think  me  hard.  But  I 
must  win  that  wager.  Not  so  much  for  the  money  as  for 
the  gratification  of  proving  to  Bob  that  I  have  some  con- 
trol over  myself.  Surely,  if  you  truly  love  me  you  will 
not  begrudge  me  that  satisfaction  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  sweet  one.  Have  your  own  way.  I  '11  wait. 
Only  say  that  there  is  some  chance  of  my  succeeding." 

"  Why,  of  course,  every  one  has  a  chance.    But  I  must 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS    A    VALUABLE   CLUE.        247 

not  tell  you  how  great  yours  is,  because  if  I  did  I  would 
not  be  winning  my  bet  fairly.  And  I  must  say  good- 
night," with  which  she  left  him.  Her  last  words  lingered 
with  him,  and  he  took  comfort.  For  what  could  she 
mean  but  that  his  chances  were  good,  since  if  otherwise, 
how  could  the  telling  prevent  her  from  winning  her  wager  ? 
Nevertheless,  as  the  weeks  went  on,  he  tried  many  times 
to  get  a  more  definite  reply  from  her,  but  never  succeeded. 
Still  he  hugged  the  cherished  hope  to  his  heart  and  waited 
as  patiently  as  man  could. 

Randolph  was  simply  miserable  all  the  time.  Whenever 
he  was  with  Dora  she  was  good  to  him,  kind  to  him,  and 
often  used  tender  tones  that  thrilled  his  heart.  But  he 
too  failed  to  get  anything  from  her,  save  the  old  request 
that  he  should  be  patient  and  wait.  He  too  waited,  but 
not  patiently. 

Meanwhile,  in  New  York,  Mr.  Barnes  was  still  burrow- 
ing into  everything  that  seemed  to  have  any  connection 
direct  or  otherwise  with  the  mystery,  or  mysteries,  that 
baffled  him.  Of  one  thing  he  had  satisfied  himself  beyond 
all  doubt.  That  was  that  Mr.  Fisher  had  not  been  impli- 
cated in  the  train  robbery.  His  spy  had  found  that  he 
had  been  absent  from  the  city  during  three  days  at  the 
time  of  the  crime,  but  this  very  fact  had  been  shown  to 
be  his  safeguard.  By  some  skilful  work  the  man  dis- 
covered, that  during  that  time  he  had  simply  been  off 
shooting  ducks,  in  a  part  of  the  country  where  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  him  to  be  an  accomplice.  This 
simple  fact  should  not  have  been  hard  to  discover,  were  it 


248  AN   ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

not  that  Fisher  had  kept  his  trip  a  secret.  This  for  some 
time  puzzled  the  detective,  but  finally  he  followed  him  out 
of  the  city,  and  practically  accompanied  him  on  a  similar 
outing,  after  which  he  learned  that  his  sister  was  morbidly 
opposed  to  all  killing,  whether  for  sport  or  for  a  liveli- 
hood. It  was  to  humor  this  idea  that  her  brother  made 
his  excursions  in  secret.  The  spy  learned  from  the  man 
from  whom  the  dogs  were  hired  that  Mr.  Fisher  had  used 
them  in  December.  So  that  left  him  out  of  the  score,  or 
at  least  so  it  seemed.  It  was  still  possible  that  he  was 
implicated  in  the  ruby  robbery,  though  save  that  he  was 
present  there  seemed  nothing  against  him.  Mr.  Barnes 
did  not  entirely  leave  him  out  of  the  account. 

Thus  practically  the  detective  made  no  progress,  and 
was  chagrined  to  be  compelled  to  admit  it.  Finally,  how- 
ever, an  idea  occurred  to  him,  upon  which  the  more  he 
dwelt,  the  more  fascinated  he  became  with  it.  To  put  it 
into  practice,  however,  he  felt  that  he  must  await  the 
return  of  Mr.  Mitchel.  He  thought  he  would  injure  his 
cause  by  seeking  him  and  so  disturbing  him  during  his 
pleasure  trip. 

The  Mitchels  did  not  keep  their  promise  to  go  to  the 
White  Mountains,  but  on  the  contrary  prolonged  their 
western  travel,  so  that  it  was  November  before  they  were 
at  home  again,  and  temporarily  quartered  at  the  Fifth 
Avenue.  A  few  days  after,  Mr.  Barnes  sent  up  his  card, 
and  as  usual,  was  cordially  received. 

"  Any  news  of  my  wife's  ruby  ? "  asked  Mr.  Mitchel, 
grasping  the  detective  warmly  by  the  hand. 


MR.    BARNES   DISCOVERS   A    VALUABLE   CLUE.        249 

"  No,  Mr.  Mitchel.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  am  utterly 
unable  to  prove  any  of  my  theories  about  that.  But  I 
have  come  to  a  set  determination,  and  one  that  to  you 
may  seem  a  peculiar  one.  I  have  come  to  ask  your 
assistance  in  the  murder  case." 

"  Why,  certainly,  I  will  help  you.  Did  I  not  tell  you  so 
at  the  very  outset  ?  Have  I  not  always  been  willing  to 
talk  freely  to  you  ?  " 

"  You  have,  but  as  long  as  I  thought  that  you  yourself 
might  have  committed  the  crime,  how  could  I  come  to 
you  to  ask  you  to  assist  me  ?  " 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  at  present  you  do  not 
suspect  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  that  conclusion  at  last,  and  wish  now 
that  I  had  done  so  sooner." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  why  you  have  altered  your 
mind  ?  You  have  told  me  so  much  that  seemed  to  impli- 
cate me,  that  I  am  curious  to  hear  the  other  side." 

"  Certainly.  I  overheard  your  wager.  Then  came  the 
robbery,  and  then  the  murder.  Later  there  was  a  second 
jewel  robbery  ;  all  of  these  crimes  occurred  within  the 
limit  which  you  set.  One  of  them  of  course  you  com- 
mitted. It  seems  more  probable  that  you  stole  the  single 
ruby,  for  in  doing  that  you  committed  a  crime  for  which 
you  could  not  be  punished,  especially  since  you  have 
married  the  lady.  Even  before,  she  would  willingly  have 
testified  that  it  was  understood  between  you,  and  that  it 
was  simply  a  trick  to  win  a  wager.  Is  not  that  correct 
logic  ? " 


250  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

"  Correct  logic  ?  Yes.  Of  course  I  admit  nothing  as  to 
facts." 

"  Either  or  both  of  these  robberies  are  secondary  to  the 
murder.  That  I  have  determined  to  unravel  if  I  can. 
At  present  I  think  the  train  robber  and  the  murderer  was 
one  and  the  same  person.  Now,  there  is  one  clue  which 
I  have  not  been  able  to  follow,  but  which,  if  pursued,  I  am 
certain  will  lead  me  straight  to  the  criminal." 

"  And  that  is  ?  " 

"  The  button  which  I  found  in  the  room.  That  is 
significant.  It  is  too  great  a  coincidence  that  it  should 
match  your  set,  not  to  have  an  explanation  that  would 
shed  light  upon  this  case." 

"  How  do  you  expect  me  to  assist  you  in  that  direc- 
tion ?  " 

"  As  long  as  I  thought  you  guilty,  I  believed  that  you 
had  lied  when  you  said  that  the  seventh  button  of  the  set 
was  the  Shakespeare  pin  which  your  wife  had.  That  is 
why  I  thought  it  of  importance  to  recover  it  ;  sufficiently 
so,  to  send  my  spy,  Lucette,  into  the  house  with  instruc- 
tions to  obtain  it  if  possible.  Now  that  I  believe  you 
innocent  of  the  murder,  this  thought  has  recently  come 
to  me.  When  I  first  told  you  about  this  button,  before 
you  would  speak  about  it,  you  asked  me  to  allow  you  to 
examine  it.  After  doing  so,  you  gave  it  back  to  me,  with 
a  cheerful  smile.  If  that  button  had  been  evidence 
against  you,  I  see  now  that  it  would  have  required  a 
powerful  nerve  to  appear  so  unconcerned,  and  especially 
to  return  it  to  me.  The  question  then  that  I  wish  you 


MR.    BARNES    DISCOVERS    A    VALUABLE   CLUE.        25  E 

to  answer  is,  what  was  it  that  you  saw  on  that  button, 
which  satisfied  you  that  it  was  not  of  your  set  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Barnes,  I  knew  that  there  were 
but  three  like  it,  the  other  three  having  different  heads, 
and  the  seventh  being  the  Shakespeare  button.  Thus  as 
I  knew  that  all  the  buttons  were  in  my  possession,  I  felt 
safe." 

"  But  in  the  second  place,"  said  the  detective,  "  there 
was  a  distinct  difference  between  the  buttons,  and  by 
that  you  were  even  more  assured.  Am  I  not  right  ? " 

"  Mr.  Barnes,  you  deserve  to  succeed,  and  I  hope  you 
will.  I  will  aid  you  all  that  I  can.  You  are  right. 
There  is  a  difference  in  the  buttons.  Have  you  yours 
with  you  ? " 

"Yes,  here  it  is ;  "  saying  which,  he  took  it  from  his 
pocket-book. 

"  Keep  it  a  moment.  When  Miss  Remsen  ordered 
these  buttons,  she  directed  that  a  tiny  initial  should  be 
adroitly  carved  in  the  hair  of  each  of  the  Romeo  and 
Juliet  buttons.  In  the  former  she  ordered  an  "  R." 
She  calls  me  Roy.  And  in  the  others  a  "  Q."  I  call  her 
Queen.  This  would  escape  ordinary  observation,  but 
after  seeing  it  with  a  lens,  one  may  readily  find  it  with 
the  naked  eye  afterwards.  Now  take  this  lens  and 
examine  your  button,  just  at  the  base  of  the  hair,  near 
the  neck.  So  !  What  do  you  find  ?  " 

"  By  heavens,"  exclaimed  the  detective,  "  This  is  most 
important.  This  is  a  Juliet,  and  if  one  of  your  set,  it 
should  have  a  "  Q,"  on  it.  I  believe  that  there  was  an 


25«  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

attempt  to  make  that  letter,  but  the  tool  must  have 
slipped,  and  so  it  is  a  poor  result,  a  chip  in  fact,  which 
mars  the  continuity  of  the  letter.  I  doubt  if  with  the 
eye  alone  as  you  looked  at  it  that  day,  when  I  first  showed 
it  to  you,  that  you  saw  any  letter  at  all." 

"You  are  correct.  I  simply  looked  for  the  "  Q,"  and 
not  finding  it,  was  satisfied." 

"  This  is  serious.  This  button  evidently  was  made  by 
the  same  hand  that  made  yours.  It  was  spoiled,  and 
another  cut  to  replace  it.  The  man  who  carved  it,  or 
the  person  who  became  possessed  of  it,  must  and  shall 
explain  to  me  how  it  came  into  the  room  where  the 
murder  was  done.  You  must  tell  me  now  where  these 
buttons  were  bought." 

"  I  will  do  so  upon  one  condition." 

"  Name  it." 

"  That  whatever  you  discover,  you  will  tell  me  before 
you  act,  and  that  you  will  not  act  before  January  ist 
unless  absolutely  necessary." 

"  You  mean  as  to  making  an  arrest  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  mean.  You  need  not  fear 
to  make  the  promise.  I  will  guarantee  that  your  man 
shall  not  escape.  I  know  him." 

"  You  know  him  ? "  Mr.  Barnes  was  astonished  that 
Mr.  Mitchel  should  make  such  an  admission. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him.  That  is,  I  am  morally  certain  that 
I  know  him.  I  will  tell  you  at  once,  that  having  the 
knowledge  that  I  myself  was  innocent,  I  have  had  an 
advantage  over  you,  and  I  have  been  hunting  down  this 


MR.   BARNES  DISCOVERS   A   VALUABLE  CLUE.        253 

man  all  these  months.  I  have  good  circumstantial  evi- 
dence against  him,  but  not  enough  to  warrant  an  arrest ; 
at  least  not  yet.  If  you  could  follow  this  clue,  and  find 
that  it  leads  to  the  same  man,  we  could  convict  him." 

"  Will  you  give  me  the  name  of  the  man  whom  you 
suspect  ?  " 

"  No  !  That  would  materially  weaken  our  case.  We 
must  get  the  same  result  without  collusion.  No,  you  work 
alone  and  work  quickly,  for  I  particularly  wish  the  case 
to  be  completed  by  January  ist." 

"  Why  so  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  day  upon  which  my  wager  is  to  be  decided, 
and  I  shall  give  a  dinner  party,  at  which  I  anticipate 
some  fun.  By  the  way,  don't  forget  that  you  won  a  din- 
ner from  me  on  a  wager.  Accept  an  invitation  to  dine  with 
me  January  ist,  and  if  you  can  then  convict  our  man, 
you  shall  be  most  welcome." 

"  I  shall  bend  every  energy  to  that  end.  But  now  tell 
me  the  name  of  the  jeweller  from  whom  the  buttons  were 
procured." 

Mr.  Mitchel  then  wrote  down  the  name  of  a  Paris  firm, 
also  giving  their  address.  Handing  the  slip  of  paper 
to  Mr.  Barnes,  he  took  another  sheet  and  continued 
writing. 

"Why,  Mr.  Mitchel,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Barnes, "  This  is  the 
same  firm  from  whom  your  jewels  were  bought ;  those  I 
mean,  which  are  similar  to  the  stolen  set.  I  have  already 
communicated  with  these  people,  and  they  sent  me  word 
that  they  knew  nothing." 


254  AN    ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"Yes,  I  know.  That  was  by  my  instruction,"  saying 
which  Mr.  Mitchel  smiled,  and  Mr.  Barnes  once  more 
discovered  that  he  had  been  fighting  against  a  man  who 
thought  of  everything.  "  You  see,"  continued  Mr. 
Mitchel,  "  I  knew  that  you  saw  the  name  of  the  jewellers 
on  the  bill  of  sale.  What  more  probable  than  that  you 
should  apply  there  for  information  ?  Now,  my  one  object 
throughout  has  been,  not  to  defeat  justice,  but  to  have 
time  enough  elapse  for  me  to  win  my  wager.  Therefore, 
I  immediately  sent  a  cable  to  these  persons,  'Answer 
nothing  signed  Barnes  till  you  hear  from  me.'  Rather  a 
long  cable  despatch,  but  then  I  don't  mind  a  few  dollars. 
Of  course,  my  letter  to  them  made  them  shut  their 
mouths  to  you.  It  was  very  simple.  However,  I  myself 
have  not  been  able  to  get  satisfactory  facts  from  them, 
and  I  think  it  needs  a  person  actually  on  the  ground  to 
ferret  out  this  thing.  I  believe  you  are  just  the  man  for 
the  case.  This  letter  will  give  you  their  assistance,  and 
here  is  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars  for  expenses." 

Mr.  Barnes  would  have  refused,  but  Mr.  Mitchel  in- 
sisted, that  from  that  time  on,  Mr.  Barnes  should  con- 
sider himself  regularly  employed  on  the  murder  case, 
"  though,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  jocularly, "  you  are 
still  free  to  work  out  the  robberies." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  at  parting,  and  one  would 
have  said  that  they  were  separating  after  a  mutually  satis- 
factory interview. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY. 

THE  ist  of  January  arrived,  and  Mr.  Mitchel  had 
heard  nothing  from  Mr.  Barnes.  Inquiry  at  his  office 
was  met  by  the  simple  statement,  that  "  The  chief  is 
out  of  town."  When  he  would  be  back,  or  where  a  com- 
munication would  reach  him,  could  not  be  learned.  A 
few  days  before,  however,  a  formal  engraved  invitation 
to  the  dinner  party  had  been  mailed  to  his  home  address. 
Mr.  Mitchel  was  annoyed  at  not  having  any  notification 
of  whether  or  not  the  detective  would  be  present.  How- 
ever, he  was  compelled  to  go  ahead,  and  depend  upon 
the  slight  chance  that  at  the  last  moment  he  would  appear 
upon  the  scene.  He  hoped  that  this  would  occur,  as 
otherwise,  his  scheme  for  the  evening  would  be  in- 
complete. 

The  dinner  was  to  be  served  at  ten  o'clock  that  night 
at  Delmonico's,  where  a  private  room  had  been  engaged. 
It  lacked  ten  minutes  of  the  hour  for  sitting  down,  and 
all  the  guests  had  arrived,  except  Mr.  Barnes.  These 
were  :  Mr.  Van  Rawlston,  Mr.  Randolph,  Mr.  Fisher, 
Mr.  Neuilly,  who  had  decided  to  spend  the  winter  in  New 
York,  Mr.  Thauret,  and  several  other  gentlemen. 

It  lacked  barely  half  a  minute  of  ten  when  Mr.  Barnes 


256  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME 

was  announced,  and  entered  in  handsome  evening  dress. 
Mr.  Mitchel's  face  wore  a  look  of  triumph  as  he  saw  him, 
and  he  hurried  forward  to  receive  him.  Every  one  pres- 
ent understood  why  the  detective  was  invited,  for  it  was 
by  this  time  well  known  that  a  wager  was  to  be  decided 
at  twelve  o'clock.  After  the  exchange  of  greetings,  Mr. 
Mitchel  gave  the  waiters  the  order  to  open  the  doors  of  the 
dining-room,  and  in  the  moment's  interval  managed  to 
get  a  word  with  the  detective. 

"  Tell  me  quickly,  have  you  succeeded  ? " 

"  Yes,  thoroughly." 

"  Good  !  Write  the  man's  name  on  a  card,  and  I  will 
give  you  one  upon  which  I  have  written  the  name  of 
my  man." 

Mr.  Barnes  did  so.  Then  they  exchanged  cards, 
glanced  at  them,  and  grasped  each  other's  hands  signifi- 
cantly. The  cards  bore  the  same  name.  With  the  others 
they  went  into  the  dining-room.  Mr.  Thauret  found 
himself  seated  next  to  Mr.  Barnes,  whilst  on  the  other  side 
of  the  detective  sat  Mr.  Fisher. 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  dinner  was  enjoyable 
and  enjoyed,  though  it  must  be  admitted  that  all  awaited 
anxiously  the  hour  of  twelve.  It  will  be  as  well  perhaps, 
therefore,  to  come  immediately  to  the  denouement,  for 
which  all  were  assembled.  The  last  course  had  been 
served,  and  coffee  and  nuts  were  on  the  table,  when  the 
clock  chimed  the  hour  for  which  all  were  anxious. 
Promptly  at  the  first  stroke  Mr.  Mitchel  arose.  There 
was  a  silence  till  twelve  was  tolled  and  then  he  began  : 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  257 

"  Gentlemen^  you  have  all  kindly  accepted  my  invita- 
tion to  see  me  win  a  rash  wager  made  thirteen  months 
ago.  It  is  odd,  perhaps,  that  I  should  have  won — for  I 
announce  that  I  have  won — when  we  remember  that  the 
time  was  thirteen  months,  which  number,  as  we  all  know, 
superstitious  persons  are  inclined  to  connect  with  misfor- 
tune. To  show,  however,  that  I  do  not  harbor  such 
childish  ideas,  I  purposely  made  the  time  of  that  length, 
and,  to-night,  at  the  decisive  moment,  we  are  thirteen." 
Here  he  paused  a  moment,  and  one  might  have  noticed 
that  several  persons  quickly  counted  those  present  to  test 
the  fact.  Continuing,  he  said  :  "  The  superstition  in  con^ 
nection  with  thirteen  at  dinner  is  a  well-defined  one,  and 
the  supposition  is  that  one  of  the  number  will  die  within 
the  year.  I  offer  as  a  toast,  therefore,  '  Long  life  to  all 
present — who  deserve  it.'"  The  last  clause  after  a  slight 
hesitation,  made  a  decided  effect.  However,  the  toast 
was  drunk  in  silence. 

"  As  some  present  may  not  entirely  understand  what  my 
wager  was,  I  must  explain  that  thirteen  months  ago  to- 
night I  was  in  a  Pullman  sleeper  with  my  friend,  Mr. 
Randolph.  Mr.  Barnes  here  had  just  accomplished  a 
neat  capture  of  the  criminal  Pettingill,  who  has  since 
been  convicted.  The  papers  were  praising  him,  and  Mr. 
Randolph  did  so  to  me  in  glowing  terms.  I  ventured  the 
assertion  that  detectives  run  down  their  prey  largely 
because  the  criminal  class  lack  intelligence  sufficient  to 
compete  with  their  more  skilled  adversaries.  I  offered  to 
wager  that  I  could  commit  a  crime  within  a  month  and 

'7 


258  AN    ARTIST   IN    CRIME. 

not  be  detected  within  a  year  thereafter.  The  amount 
was  to  be  a  thousand  dollars,  and  was  accepted  by  Mr. 
Randolph.  I  stipulated  for  conviction,  though  had  I 
been  arrested  within  the  stated  period  and  convicted 
afterwards,  I  should  have  considered  that  I  had  lost  the 
wager.  That  is  why  I  awaited  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Barnes 
so  anxiously.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  time,  and  it 
was  possible  that  at  the  last  moment  he  might  be  prepared 
to  arrest  me  upon  evidence  that  would  later  convict  me. 
However,  gentlemen,  I  have  escaped  both  arrest  and  con- 
viction, yet  I  committed  the  crime  as  wagered." 

"  You  must  prove  that,"  said  Mr.  Randolph  ;  "  and, 
according  to  our  agreement,  it  must  have  been  a  crime 
which  was  much  talked  about !  " 

"  Quite  right,  my  friend,  but  I  shall  be  able  to  demon- 
strate all  that.  By  a  curious  coincidence  a  robbery  was 
committed  on  the  very  night  and  upon  the  same  train 
upon  which  we  made  our  wager,  whilst  another  robbery 
was  committed  almost  at  the  moment  when  the  stipulated 
month  expired.  Thus  two  crimes  transpired  within  the 
time  allowed  me,  and  with  both  of  these  my  name  has 
been  connected  in  the  mind  of  the  detective,  Mr.  Barnes. 
Now,  that  you  all  may  better  understand  the  circum- 
stances, I  must  go  to  what  I  might  call  the  beginning. 
Years  ago  certain  circumstances  in  my  earlier  life  gave  me 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  methods  used  by  detec- 
tives, and  I  then  acquired  the  idea  which  led  me  into  this 
undertaking, — that  where  the  criminal  has  succeeded  in 
escaping  actual  watching  during  the  commission  of  his 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  259 

crime,  so. that  there  is  no  witness  to  the  act,  the  detective 
is  almost  powerless  until  he  learns  the  object  for  which 
the  crime  was  undertaken.  Am  I  not  right,  Mr.  Barnes  ? " 

"  To  know  the  object  of  a  crime,  of  course,  is  a  great 
assistance,  but  much  would  depend  upon  the  attendant 
circumstances." 

"True.  The  object  then  is  important.  From  this  point 
I  reached  the  conclusion  that  if  a  man  approached  another, 
totally  unknown  to  him,  at  night  in  a  lonely  neighborhood, 
struck  him  on  the  head,  killing  him,  and  then,  unseen, 
reached  his  own  home,  it  would  rest  entirely  with  himself 
whether  or  not  he  would  ever  be  caught.  I  wanted  a 
chance  to  try  this  experiment  ;  that  is,  to  commit  a  crime 
solely  to  test  the  ability  of  the  detectives  to  discover  me 
afterwards.  The  difficulty  was  that  a  gentleman  of  honor 
would  scarcely  wish  to  engage  in  such  a  reprehensible 
piece  of  business.  For  years,  therefore,  I  could  think  of 
no  way  to  have  my  wish,  till  the  merest  chance  threw  the 
opportunity  within  my  grasp.  Waiter,  fill  up  the  glasses." 

He  paused  a  moment  while  this  was  being  done.  The 
men  went  around  with  champagne,  and  when  Mr.  Thauret 
was  reached  he  asked  to  have  his  Burgundy  glass  filled 
also.  Mr.  Mitchel  was  again  speaking  when  the  waiter 
returned  with  the  red  wine,  and  did  as  requested.  Mr. 
Barnes  also  presented  his  glass  for  the  same  liquor,  saying 
in  an  undertone  to  Mr.  Thauret,  "  I  cannot  take  too  much 
champagne." 

"  One  of  my  hobbies,"  continued  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  as  you 
all  know,  is  the  collection  of  jewels.  A  few  years  ago  I 


260  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

heard  that  a  magnificent  set  was  offered  for  sale.  A  rich 
East  Indian  nobleman,  so  the  story  goes,  had  procured  the 
gems  as  a  present  to  his  wife.  They  were  of  the  choicest 
quality,  and  of  each  exactly  two,  matched  precisely  in 
size,  cutting,  and  coloration.  In  time  he  had  two  daughters, 
twins,  the  mother  dying  at  their  birth.  Eventually  these 
girls  grew  up  and  were  married,  the  ceremony  being  a 
double  wedding.  The  father  took  the  set  of  jewels  and 
divided  them,  giving  to  each  girl,  one  of  each.  This  greatly 
diminished  their  value,  for  the  matching  of  gems  adds  to 
their  price.  Reverses  of  fortune  tempted  one  of  these 
women  to  offer  her  jewels  for  sale.  They  were  taken  to  a 
Paris  dealer,  who  chanced  to  be  a  man  through  whom  I  had 
made  many  purchases.  He  undertook  not  only  to  dispose 
of  the  gems,  but  to  reproduce  them  with  a  high  order  of 
imitation,  so  that  the  woman  retained  the  original  settings 
and  continued  to  wear  what  her  friends  supposed  to  be 
the  genuine  gems.  I  bought  the  unset  stones.  Subse- 
quently her  sister,  learning  the  secret,  and  seeing  that 
there  was  a  way  by  which  the  jewelry  could  be  retained, 
whilst  the  jewels  themselves  could  be  turned  into  money, 
engaged  the  same  dealer  to  serve  her  in  a  similar  way.  Of 
course,  I  was  doubly  anxious  to  obtain  this  second  lot, 
for  by  doing  so  I  enhanced  the  values  of  those  which  I 
had  already.  I  therefore  bought  them  also." 

He  paused  a  moment,  to  allow  the  company  to  recover 
from  the  surprise  at  learning  that  the  stolen  jewels 
were  his. 

"  This  lot  was  sent  to  me  through  the  Boston  custom- 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  26: 

house.  I  instructed  the  dealer  to  do  this,  because  I  had 
found  that  goods  can  be  received  with  less  delay  in  Boston 
than  in  New  York.  Being  notified  by  my  broker  there 
that  they  were  ready  for  delivery,  I  went  to  Boston  and 
obtained  them.  I  placed  the  wallet  in  a  peculiar  satchel 
which  had  been  made  to  order  for  me,  and  carried  it  to 
my  room  at  the  Hotel  Vendome.  Later  in  the  day,  I 
met  Mr.  Randolph,  and  went  with  him  to  a  theatre.  He 
was  to  return  to  New  York  by  the  midnight  express,  and 
I  went  with  him  to  the  depot.  As  we  stood  awaiting 
our  turn  to  purchase  tickets,  you  may  imagine  my  utter 
astonishment  to  see  a  woman  pass  and  board  the  train, 
having  my  satchel  in  her  hand.  There  could  be  no  mis- 
take whatever,  because  the  satchel  was  peculiar,  both  in 
shape  and  color.  Of  course  I  saw  at  once  I  had  been 
robbed.  It  was  useless  to  go  back  to  my  hotel,  for  that 
would  be  time  wasted.  If  by  any  miracle  there  were  two 
such  satchels,  mine  was  safe  in  the  hotel.  I  therefore 
astonished  Mr.  Randolph  by  offering  to  accompany  him, 
and  I  did  so,  occupying  the  same  section  with  him. 
Whilst  I  was  thinking  what  action  I  should  pursue,  know- 
ing that  once  the  train  started  my  thief  would  be  safe  as 
far  as  New  Haven,  Mr.  Randolph  began  to  praise  Mr. 
Barnes,  and  like  a  flash  it  came  to  me  that  this  was  my 
chance.  I  would  rob  the  thief  of  my  own  property. 
Thus  if  caught  I  could  not  be  imprisoned,  whilst  if  not 
I  would  not  only  win  my  wager,  but  I  would  have  the 
excitement  and  the  satisfaction  for  which  I  had  wished. 
One  thing  threatened  to  upset  my  plans.  Mr.  Barnes  by 


262  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

an  odd  chance  came  aboard  the  same  coach,  was  given 
the  section  next  to  ours,  and  overheard  our  conversation. 
This  of  course  I  could  not  have  counted  upon." 

"  You  did  take  it  into  your  account  though,"  inter- 
rupted Mr.  Barnes. 

"  You  mean  that  I  refused  to  tell  Mr.  Randolph  what 
I  meant  to  do,  saying  that  I  might  be  overheard,  and 
that  I  might  even  be  talking  for  the  benefit  of  a  listen- 
ing detective  ?  True,  but  I  had  no  idea  that  this  was  so. 
It  was  merely  extreme  precaution,  and  only  shows  that 
we  can  never  be  too  cautious  in  an  endeavor  to  keep  a 
secret.  Later,  however,  I  heard  you  get  up,  and  peeping 
through  the  curtains,  I  saw  you  sitting  up,  or  rather  lying 
in  a  berth  opposite,  with  the  curtains  drawn.  I  at  once 
supposed  that  you  must  be  a  detective.  My  companion 
was  soon  asleep,  but  with  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  jewels  in  the  balance,  I  could  not  sleep.  I  was 
busy  wondering  what  I  should  do.  I  think  though  that 
I  must  have  dozed,  for  I  know  that  I  was  startled  to  dis- 
cover suddenly  that  we  were  not  moving.  I  looked  out 
of  our  section  window — fortunately  I  was  next  to  it — and 
found  that  we  had  run  into  the  depot  at  New  Haven. 
Like  a  flash  it  came  to  me  that  the  thief  might  leave  the 
train  here.  I  was  about  to  get  up,  when  to  my  astonish- 
ment I  noticed  a  man  sneaking  along  by  the  side  of  the 
train.  I  was  on  the  side  opposite  to  that  from  which  the 
passengers  would  alight,  and  the  suspicious  actions  of  the 
man  forced  me  to  watch  him.  He  passed  so  close  to 
me  that  I  could  have  touched  him  had  my  window  been 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  263 

open,  and  as  he  did  so  the  light  of  an  electric  lamp  dis- 
closed the  fact  that  he  had  my  satchel.  The  thief  had 
been  robbed  already.  The  man  approached  a  coal-bin, 
and  stooping,  shoved  the  satchel  behind  it.  Then  he 
returned  to  the  train  and  came  aboard.  I  said  to  myself 
'  That  fellow  is  an  artist.  He  will  remain  on  board  till 
the  robbery  is  discovered,  if  necessary,  and  even  allow 
himself  to  be  searched.  Then  he  will  quietly  come  back 
and  get  the  satchel  and  jewels.'  Thus  it  was  my  cue  to 
act  quickly.  But  if  I  left  the  train  I  knew  that  the  detec- 
tive would  see  me.  I  therefore  gently  raised  the  sash, 
and  deftly  let  myself  to  the  ground  out  of  the  window. 
I  quickly  took  the  satchel,  ran  to  the  end  of  the  depot, 
and  found  a  place  where  I  could  shove  it  far  under  the 
platform.  Then  I  climbed  back  into  the  berth,  and  after 
that  I  assure  you  I  slept  very  well." 

The  company  applauded  this  description  of  how  the 
robbery  had  been  committed,  and  Mr.  Mitchel  bowed. 

"  Wait,  my  friends,  we  are  not  through  yet.  The  woman 
who  had  robbed  me  had  the  supreme  audacity  to  report 
her  loss,  or  perhaps  we  should  say,  that  she  was  so  angry 
that  she  became  desperate.  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  she  had  an  accomplice  in  this  man,  and  that  sus- 
pecting him  of  robbing  her,  she  would  have  been  willing 
to  give  testimony  against  him  if  caught,  and  trust  to 
escape  herself,  by  turning  State's  evidence.  When  we 
were  running  in  to  New  York,  Mr.  Barnes  directed  that 
all  should  be  searched.  I  enjoyed  that,  I  assure  you.  It 
seemed  so  amusing  to  look  in  New  York  for  what  I  knew 


164  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

was  in  New  Haven.  At  the  same  time  I  was  anxious  to 
get  back  to  New  Haven  as  quickly  as  possible.  With 
that  end  in  view  I  invited  Mr.  Barnes  to  breakfast  with 
me.  I  tried  to  make  it  appear  that  I  was  anxious  to 
have  him  agree  to  be  the  only  detective  on  my  track,  but 
in  reality  I  wished  to  discover  whether  he  would  be  able 
at  once  to  place  a  spy  at  my  heels  ;  that  is,  whether  he 
had  a  man  at  the  Grand  Central  already.  This  I  found 
was  the  case.  I  therefore  was  obliged  to  go  to  my  hotel 
as  though  having  no  desire  to  leave  town  again.  Then, 
subsequently,  I  eluded  this  man  by  the  convenient  bridges 
across  the  Elevated  railroad.  I  went  to  New  Haven, 
found  the  satchel,  and  then  deposited  it  at  a  hotel  near- 
by for  safe  keeping.  My  object  in  this  was  plain.  I 
knew  that  the  robbery  would  get  into  the  newspapers, 
and  that  by  behaving  suspiciously  at  the  hotel, — of  course 
I  was  disguised, — attention  would  be  attracted  there. 
This  did  happen,  and  the  result  was  that  the  jewels  were 
given  into  the  custody  of  the  police  authorities,  the  very 
safest  place  for  them,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned.  Gentle- 
men, that  is  the  story  of  the  crime  which  I  committed.  I 
have  only  to  show  my  receipt  from  the  Boston  custom- 
house, and  my  bill-of-sale  from  the  Paris  dealer  to  be  able 
to  recover  my  property.  Are  you  satisfied,  Mr.  Randolph  ?  " 

"  Entirely.  You  have  won  fairly,  and  I  have  a  check 
for  the  amount  with  me,  which  you  must  accept  with  my 
congratulations  upon  your  success." 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  taking  the 
check ;  "  I  take  this  because  I  have  immediate  use  for  it, 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  265 

as  you  will  learn  directly.  Now  I  must  tell  you  the  true 
story  of  the  other  robbery." 

At  this  all  were  very  much  astonished.  Mr.  Thauret 
appeared  a  trifle  nervous.  He  placed  one  hand  over  the 
top  of  his  claret  glass,  and  let  it  rest  there  a  moment,  after 
first  having  taken  a  sip  from  it. 

"  You  all  recall  the  fact  that  I  was  sick  in  Philadelphia," 
continued  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  at  the  time  of  the  Ali  Baba 
festival.  I  flatter  myself  that  that  was  the  most  artistic 
thing  that  I  have  done  throughout  this  whole  affair. 
Any  one  seeing  me  would  have  been  satisfied  that  I  was 
truly  ill,  yet,  in  point  of  fact,  my  cough  was  brought  on 
by  drugs  administered  to  me  by  my  physician  at  my  ex- 
press desire,  and  for  purposes  which  I  had  explained  to 
him.  I  guessed  that  I  had  been  followed  to  Philadelphia, 
and  took  care  that  I  should  not  be  too  closely  watched,  as 
Mr.  Barnes  knows.  Yet  I  expected  that  after  the  affair, 
Mr.  Barnes  himself  would  come  to  Philadelphia  to  see 
me,  and  my  artificially-produced  illness  was  to  baffle 
him.  But  I  am  anticipating  events.  After  the  train 
robbery  the  woman  was  murdered.  By  what  seemed  an 
odd  chance  she  was  in  the  same  house  where  my  wife 
then  lived.  I  knew  that  I  had  been  followed  from  the 
theatre  to  that  house  on  the  night  of  the  murder.  I  knew 
that  other  circumstances  pointed  strongly  to  my  guilt. 
But  I  had  the  advantage  over  the  detective,  for  I  knew 
that  the  man  who  had  stolen  the  jewels  from  the  woman, 
not  finding  them  when  he  returned  to  New  Haven,  must 
have  been  furious.  Judging  the  woman  by  himself,  he 


266  AN    ARTIST    IN   CRIME. 

would  suppose  that  at  least  it  was  possible  that  she  had 
taken  them  from  the  satchel  herself.  Then  on  that  slim 
chance  might  he  not  have  returned  to  the  woman,  and, 
admitting  the  theft  of  the  satchel,  have  endeavored  to 
make  her  confess  that  she  still  had  the  jewels  ?  Failing 
in  this,  might  he  not  either  in  a  fit  of  anger  or  to  prevent 
her  from  'peaching,'  as  they  call  it,  have  cut  her  throat  ?" 

"  You  are  wrong  there,  Mr.  Mitchel,"  said  the  detective. 
"  The  woman  was  killed  whilst  she  slept.  There  was  no 
struggle." 

"  Even  so,  we  can  imagine  the  sneak  going  into  the 
house  and  killing  her  that  he  might  search  for  the  gems 
undisturbed,  and  also  to  rid  himself  of  a  companion  for 
whom  he  no  longer  had  any  need.  At  least,  that  was 
the  view  that  I  took  of  it,  and,  more  than  that,  I  felt 
convinced  that  I  knew  the  man." 

At  this  moment,  Mr.  Thauret  nervously  reached  forth 
his  hand  towards  his  glass  of  wine,  but  before  he  could 
get  it  Mr.  Barnes  had  taken  it  up  and  drained  it  to  the 
bottom.  Mr.  Thauret  seemed  livid  with  wrath,  and  a 
dramatic  incident  occurred,  unobserved  by  the  rest  of  the 
company.  Mr.  Thauret  turned  towards  Mr.  Barnes  and 
seemed  on  the  point  of  making  a  demonstration,  when  that 
gentleman  just  tipped  back  his  chair  slightly,  and  mean- 
ingly exposed  to  the  view  of  his  neighbor  the  gleaming 
barrel  of  a  revolver,  which  he  held  in  his  hand  below  the 
table.  This  only  occupied  a  moment,  and  immediately 
afterwards  both  men  seemed,  like  the  others,  simply 
interested  listeners  to  the  narrative. 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  267 

"When  I  say  that  I  thought  that  I  knew  the  man,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Mitchel,  "  I  make  a  statement  which  it  may 
interest  you  to  have  me  explain.  In  the  first  place,  I  saw 
the  fellow  who  hid  the  satchel  at  the  New  Haven  depot. 
Still  I  obtained  but  a  momentary  glimpse  of  his  face,  and 
would  not  have  been  sure  of  identifying  him.  I  will  call 
your  attention  now  to  the  fact  that  very  slight  incidents 
sometimes  lead  the  mind  into  a  suspicion,  which,  followed 
up,  may  elucidate  a  mystery.  Prior  to  the  train  robbery 
I  had  met  a  man  at  my  club  one  night,  or  rather  I  had 
seen  him  playing  a  card  game,  and  I  conceived  the  notion 
that  the  fellow  was  cheating.  Within  a  few  days  of  the 
robbery  I  met  this  man  again,  on  which  occasion  Mr. 
Barnes  was  present,  and  an  interesting  conversation  oc- 
curred. I  was  standing  aside,  pretending  to  be  otherwise 
engaged,  but  really  puzzling  over  the  face  of  this  man, 
which  now  seemed  to  me  strikingly  familiar.  Of  course  I 
had  seen  him  at  the  club,  yet  despite  me,  there  was  an 
intuitive  feeling  that  I  had  seen  him  elsewhere  also.  In 
a  moment  I  heard  him  admit  that  he  had  been  aboard  of 
the  train  on  the  night  of  the  robbery,  and  that  he  had 
been  the  first  one  searched.  Awhile  later  he  offered  to 
wager  Mr.  Barnes  that  various  theories  which  had  been 
advanced  as  to  the  thief's  method  of  secreting  the  jewels, 
were  all  erroneous.  This  one  remark  satisfied  me  that 
the  thief  stood  before  me.  I  had  not  then  heard  of  the 
murder.  Now  it  must  be  remembered  that  I  was  ensnared 
in  the  meshes  of  circumstantial  evidence  myself,  so  that, 
besides  any  duty  that  I  might  owe  to  society,  it  became  of 


268  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

vital  importance  to  my  own  safety  that  I  should  be  in  a 
position  to  prove  this  man  guilty.  I  formed  a  rather  bold 
plan.  I  made  a  friend  of  the  fellow.  I  invited  him  to 
my  room  one  night,  and  then  accused  him  of  having 
cheated  at  the  card  game.  He  at  first  assumed  a  threat- 
ening attitude,  but  I  retained  my  composure,  and  perhaps 

« 

startled  him  by  proposing  to  form  a  partnership  by  which 
we  could  fleece  the  rich  club  men.  I  hinted  to  him  that 
I  really  possessed  less  money  than  I  am  credited  with,  and 
that  what  I  did  have  I  had  taken  at  the  tables  on  the 
Continent.  He  then  admitted  that  he  had  a  '  system,'  and 
from  that  time  we  posed  as  good  friends,  though  I  do  not 
think  he  ever  fully  trusted  me.  I  learned  from  him  that 
]iis  partner  in  the  game  where  I  caught  him  cheating  was 
entirely  innocent,  and  made  him  promise  not  to  play  with 
him  again,  for  I  had  discovered  that  the  detectives  had 
been  told  of  this  game,  and  therefore  knew  that  they 
would  be  watching  both  men  when  playing  cards.  I  pre- 
ferred to  be  the  partner  myself  upon  such  occasions. 
Having  somewhat  won  the  fellow's  confidence,  I  was 
ready  for  my  great  scheme  in  baffling  the  detective  so 
that  I  might  win  my  wager,  and  at  the  same  time  entrap 
my  suspect.  I  had  conceived  the  AH  Baba  festival.  I 
showed  Mr.  Barnes  one  day  the  ruby  which  I  afterwards 
presented  to  my  wife.  At  the  same  time  I  told  him,  that 
if  he  should  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  innocent 
of  the  train  robbery,  he  might  as  well  remember  that  I 
would  still  have  to  commit  the  crime  as  agreed  upon. 
Then  I  arranged  that  the  festival  should  occur  on  New 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  269 

Year's  night,  the  very  day  on  which  my  month  would 
expire.  I  knew  that  all  this  would  lead  the  detective  to 
believe  that  I  meant  to  rob  my  fiancee,  a  crime  for  which 
I  might  readily  have  escaped  punishment,  with  her  assist- 
ance. There  he  misjudged  me.  I  would  not  for  treble  the 
sum  have  had  her  name  mixed  up  in  such  a  transaction. 
She  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  my  intentions,  though 
being  at  that  time  in  ignorance  of  the  details  of  the  train 
robbery,  I  left  her  mind  in  a  condition  not  to  offer 
resistance  to  the  thief,  who  she  might  suppose  to  be 
myself.  Then,  after  laying  my  trap,  at  the  last  moment,  I 
baited  it  by  asking  my  fiancee  to  wear  the  ruby  pin  in 
her  hair.  I  went  to  Philadelphia,  and  feigned  sickness. 
Then  I  eluded  the  spy  and  came  on  myself.  Mr.  Barnes 
I  supposed  would  be  present,  and  I  had  arranged  so  that 
if  so,  he  would  necessarily  be  in  one  of  the  dominos  of 
the  forty  thieves.  I  had  invited  my  suspect  to  assume 
the  role  of  Ali  Baba,  but  he  shrewdly  persuaded  some  one 
else  to  take  the  costume,  himself  donning  one  of  the 
Forty  Thieves'  dresses.  This  compelled  me  to  go  around 
speaking  to  every  one  so  disguised,  and  to  my  satisfaction, 
by  their  voices,  I  discovered  my  man  and  also  Mr.  Barnes. 
In  the  final  tableau,  Mr.  Barnes,  who  evidently  was  watch- 
ing Ali  Baba,  attempted  to  get  near  him,  and  by  chance 
was  immediately  behind  my  man.  Fearing  that  he  would 
interfere  with  my  plans,  I  fell  in.  just  behind  him.  My 
design  was  to  tempt  the  fellow  to  steal  the  ruby,  which, 
if  he  did,  would  satisfy  at  least  myself  that  my  suspicions 
were  correct.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  mad  scheme,  but  it  sue- 


270  AN  ARTIST  IN  CRIME. 

ceeded.  I  had  so  arranged  that  every  one  should  pass 
the  Sultan  and  make  obeisance.  In  doing  this,  as  my 
fiancee  was  seated  on  the  floor,  the  ruby  in  her  hair  would 
be  just  at  hand,  and  one  who  knew  its  high  value  could 
easily  take  it.  I  fully  expected  my  man  to  do  this,  and 
I  saw  him  gently  withdraw  it.  Immediately  Mr.  Barnes 
stepped  forward  to  seize  him,  but  I  held  the  detective 
from  behind,  then  threw  him  into  the  advancing  crowd, 
and,  in  the  confusion,  escaped  from  the  house." 

Mr.  Mitchel  paused,  and  silence  prevailed.  All  felt, 
rather  than  knew,  that  a  tragedy  might  be  at  hand.  Mr. 
Thauret  however,  in  a  moment  said  : 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  tell  us  the  name  of  this  sneak 
thief  ? " 

"  No,"  quickly  responded  Mr.  Mitchel.  "  But  you  are 
wrong  to  call  my  suspect  a  sneak  thief.  If  crime  were  a 
recognized  business,  as  gambling  in  Wall  Street  is  now 
considered,  this  man  would  be  counted  '  a  bold  opera- 
tor.' I  confess  that  I  admire  him  for  his  courage.  But  it 
would  scarcely  do  for  me  to  mention  his  name,  when  I  am 
not  in  the  position  to  prove  that  he  is  the  guilty  man." 

"  I  thought  you  said  that  you  saw  him  steal  the  ruby  ? " 
said  Mr.  Thauret. 

"  I  did,  but  as  I  myself  had  been  suspected  of  that,  my 
unsupported  word  would  be  inadequate.  Let  me  tell  you 
what  I  have  done  in  the  matter  since.  The  most  import- 
ant step  for  me,  perhaps,  was  to  prevent  the  sale  of  the 
gem.  This  was  not  difficult,  as  it  is  known  the  world 
over.  I  warned  all  dealers,  and  let  my  man  know  that  I 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  DINNER  PARTY.  271 

had  done  so.  Next,  I  wished  to  delay  a  denouement  until 
to-night,  the  time  when  my  wager  with  Mr.  Randolph 
would  be  settled.  I  soon  discovered  that  my  suspect 
would  not  be  averse  to  a  marriage  with  a  rich  American 
girl.  He  questioned  me  adroitly  as  to  the  fortune  which 
would  come  to  my  little  sister-in-law,  and  I  replied  in 
such  a  way  that  I  knew  he  would  bend  his  energies  in 
that  direction.  Then  I  did  that,  which,  perhaps,  I  should 
not  have  done,  but  I  felt  myself  master  of  the  situation 
and  able  to  control  events.  I  made  a  wager  with  Dora 
that  she  would  not  remain  unengaged  until  to-night, 
and  I  stipulated  that  should  she  have  offers  she  should 
neither  accept  nor  reject  a  suitor.  I  also  told  her,  though 
I  declined  to  fully  explain  how,  that  she  would  materially 
assist  me  in  winning  my  wager." 

This  explains  what  Dora  meant  when  she  asked  Mr. 
Randolph  if  money  would  count  with  him  against  her 
love.  When  she  accepted  the  wager  with  Mr.  Mitchel 
she  had  been  feeling  resentfully  towards  Mr.  Randolph, 
who,  as  long  as  he  suspected  his  friend  of  the  graver 
crimes,  hesitated  to  become  connected  with  him  by 
marriage.  This  made  him  less  attentive  to  Dora,  so  that 
she  had  not  thought  of  him  as  a  suitor  when  making  the 
bet.  When  he  declared  himself  she  recognized  her 
predicament  and  was  correspondingly  troubled,  yet  deter- 
mined to  win,  and  so  acted  as  related. 

By  this  time,  though  Mr.  Mitchel  had  not  mentioned  the 
name  of  the  criminal,  several  present  knew  to  whom  he 
was  alluding.  Mr.  Randolph  said  impetuously  : 


272  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

"  Then  that  explains "  here  he  stopped,  confused. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  smiling,  "  that  explains  every- 
thing that  has  perplexed  you.  Be  reconciled  for  the  time 
you  have  been  made  to  wait,  for  you  will  now  not  only 
win  the  lady,  but  you  will  recover  this  check,  for  I  must 
pass  it  over  to  her  as  a  forfeit.  Gentlemen,  shall  we  drink 
to  the  health  and  success  of  Mr.  Randolph  ?  " 

This  was  done  in  silence.  The  guests  felt  a  constraint. 
They  knew  that  more  was  yet  to  come  and  anxiously 
waited  for  it. 

Mr.  Mitchel  continued  :  "  Gentlemen,  that  ends  my 
story,  except  that  I  engaged  Mr.  Barnes  to  take  up  the 
threads  of  evidence  which  I  gave  him,  and  to  disentangle 
them  if  he  could.  Shall  we  hear  his  report  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
MR.  BARNES'S  NARRATIVE. 

"  GENTLEMEN,"  began  Mr.  Barnes,  rising, "  I  am  only  an 
ordinary  man,  following  a  profession  at  which  some  are 
disposed  to  sneer,  but  which  to  me  seems  but  the  plain 
duty  of  one  who  is  endowed  with  the  peculiar  qualities 
that  are  essential  to  the  calling.  Our  host  would  make  a 
magnificent  detective,  but  I  suppose  he  feels  that  he  has 
a  higher  duty  to  perform.  Begging  you  then  to  forgive 
my  manner  of  addressing  you,  being  by  no  means  a 
speaker,  I  will  tell  you  the  little  that  I  have  done,  prefac- 
ing my  remarks  by  saying  that  without  the  valuable 
assistance  of  Mr.  Mitchel  I  should  have  been  powerless. 

There  was  a  curious  button  which  I  found  in  the  room 
where  the  murder  was  committed,  and  which  matched  a 
set  owned  by  Mr.  Mitchel  so  closely,  that  it  seemed  to  me 
to  point  to  him  as  one  who  had  a  guilty  knowledge.  I 
spent  much  time  following  the  clues  that  turned  up  in 
that  connection,  all  of  which  however  was  not  entirely 
misspent,  for  I  discovered  the  true  name  of  the  dead 
woman  to  be  Rose  Montalbon,  and  that  aided  me  greatly 
in  my  later  work.  At  last,  then,  I  abandoned  the  idea 
that  Mr.  Mitchel  was  guilty  and  frankly  admitted  this. 
He  then  told  me  the  name  of  the  jewelry  firm  from  which 

273 


274  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

the  buttons  had  been  ordered,  and  I    went   across   the 
Atlantic. 

"  The  button  which  I  had  was  imperfect.  This  was  my 
starting-point.  Through  letters  of  introduction  which 
Mr.  Mitchel  gave  me,  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  assist- 
ance of  the  jewellers.  They  gave  me  the  name  of  the 
man  who  had  carved  the  cameos  for  them,  but  they 
knew  nothing  of  the  imperfect  button.  They  had  also 
lost  track  of  the  cameo-cutter.  It  took  me  over  a  month 
to  trace  that  man,  even  with  the  aid  of  the  .Paris  police. 
Finally  I  found  him,  and  he  told  me  that  he  had  sold  the 
button  to  a  friend.  This  friend  I  found  after  some  delay, 
and  he  admitted  that  he  had  once  had  the  button,  but  that 
he  had  given  it  to  a  woman.  More  time  was  lost  in  dis- 
covering this  woman,  but  when  I  did  she  too  recognized 
the  button  and  said  that  it  had  been  stolen  from  her  by 
another  woman,  whom  she  described  as  a  Creole.  Thus 
at  last  I  got  on  the  track  of  the  Montalbon,  for  that  was 
the  name  which  she  used  in  France.  Under  this  name  it 
was  easier  to  follow  her.  I  soon  learned  that  she  had  a 
companion,  by  the  name  of  Jean  Molitaire.  I  then  easily 
found  that  Molitaire  had  been  in  the  employ  of  the  Paris 
jewellers  as  shipping-clerk.  It  was  he  who  had  written 
the  two  descriptions  of  the  jewels,  one  of  which  I  found 
among  the  woman's  effects,  and  the  other  in  Mr.  Mitchel's 
possession.  This  was  a  suspicious  circumstance,  but  we 
know  now  how  it  was  that  the  handwriting  matched,  a  fact 
which  had  puzzled  me  greatly.  It  seems  that  Mr.  Mitchel 
at  one  time  had  bought  some  valuable  papers  from  the 


MR.    BARNESS    NARRATIVE.  275 

Montalbon  woman,  paying  her  with  diamonds,  and  recom- 
mending her  to  his  Paris  jewellers  to  dispose  of  them." 

"That,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "was  partly  to  get  her  out 
of  this  country,  and  partly  to  recover  the  diamonds,  which 
I  did,  through  the  dealer." 

"  So  he  told  me.  It  was  when  she  received  the  money 
from  them  that  she  noticed  Molitaire.  It  was  not  long 
after  that  the  second  set  of  jewels  were  sold  to  Mr. 
Mitchel.  This  clerk  of  course  knew  of  the  transaction, 
because  he  packed  them  for  shipment.  Then  he  must 
have  persuaded  the  woman  to  accompany  him  across  the 
Atlantic,  with  the  design  of  stealing  the  gems  from  Mr. 
Mitchel,  as  soon  as  he  should  take  them  from  the  custom- 
house. This  is  seen  from  the  fact  that  three  days  after 
the  shipment  this  man  resigned  his  position,  and  from 
that  time  all  trace  of  both  the  man  and  the  woman  in 
Paris  it  lost." 

"From  which  you  deduce  that  they  followed  the 
jewels  ? "  said  Mr.  Mitchel. 

"  Of  course.  The  man  and  woman  separated  here  to 
avoid  suspicion.  By  a  trick  the  woman  obtained  possess- 
ion of  apartments  in  the  very  house  where  your  intended 
lived,  whilst  Molitaire  stopped  at  the  Hoffman,  which  of 
course  is  very  near  your  own  hotel.  As  soon  as  you 
went  to  Boston  they  followed  and  registered  at  the  same 
hotel.  You  obtained  the  jewels  from  the  custom-house, 
and  they  entered  your  room  and  robbed  you  during  your 
absence.  Your  theory  of  the  murderer's  actions  after 
the  jewels  were  recovered  by  you,  is  probably  correct.  He 


276  AN   ARTIST  IN   CRIME. 

went  back  to  hunt  for  them,  hoping  that  she  had  not 
placed  them  in  the  satchel,  or  rather  that  she  had  taken 
them  out  of  it,  since  you  yourself  placed  them  there.  I 
think  there  is  no  point  left  unexplained. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Mr.  Thauret,  "  I  think  you  are  wrong. 
You  have  not  to  my  mind  quite  connected  this  man — 
what  did  you  call  him  ?  Jean  Molitaire,  was  it  not  ?  Well, 
I  do  not  see  that  you  have  traced  his  hand  to  the  crime." 

"  I  think  that  I  have,"  said  Mr.  Barnes. 

"  You  do  not  make  it  clear  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Thauret, 
as  coolly  as  though  discussing  some  question  in  which  he 
had  but  a  passing  interest.  "  You  say  that  your  Montal- 
bon  woman  noticed  this  Molitaire  when  she  sold  her 
diamonds.  Later  that  both  were  missing  from  Paris. 
The  woman  turned  up  in  New  York,  but  how  do  you 
prove  that  Molitaire  did  not  go  to — let  us  say  Russia  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,"  he  did  not  go  to  Russia. 
Suppose  that  I  should  tell  you  that  I  ferreted  out  the 
fact  that  this  name  Molitaire  was  but  an  alias,  and  that 
the  man's  true  name  was  Montalbon  ?  Then  when  we 
remember  that  the  woman's  name  had  been  cut  from  all 
her  garments  is  that  not  significant  ?  " 

This  speech  made  a  mild  sensation,  but  Mr.  Thauret 
remained  unmoved.  He  replied  calmly  : 

"  All  things  are  significant — how  do  you  interpret  this 
fact,  supposing  that  you  could  prove  it  ? " 

"  This  Molitaire  was  really  the  dead  woman's  husband. 
They  quarrelled  many  years  ago,  and  she  went  to  New 


MR.    HARNESS    NARRATIVE.  277 

Orleans  where  she  kept  a  gambling-house,  having  learned 
the  trade  from  him.  When  they  met  again  in  Paris  she 
recognized  him.  Then  when  the  fellow  conceived  the 
idea  of  following  the  jewels,  it  suited  his  purpose  to 
affect  a  reconciliation  so  that  he  might  use  the  woman  as 
a  tool.  After  the  murder  it  would  be  to  his  interest  to  hide 
the  name  of  Montalbon  by  cutting  out  the  marks  on  the 
woman's  clothing." 

"  Pardon  my  pursuing  the  argument,"  said  Mr.  Thauret, 
"  but  I  find  it  entertaining.  You  surprise  me,  Mr.  Barnes, 
at  the  ready  way  in  which  you  read  men's  actions. 
Only,  are  you  sure  you  are  right  ?  Suppose  for  instance 
that  the  woman  had  cut  out  the  marks  herself  long  be- 
fore, at  some  time,  when  she  was  using  an  alias,  then  your 
fact  would  lose  some  of  its  significance,  would  it  not  ? 
Circumstantial  evidence  is  so  difficult  to  read,  you  see  ! 
Then  having  lost  that  link,  where  do  you  prove  Molitaire 
or  Montalbon  guilty  ?  Being  the  woman's  husband  is  no 
crime  in  itself." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  deciding  that  the  time  had 
come  for  an  end  of  the  controversy.  "  Being  the  woman's 
husband  does  not  count  in  itself.  But  when  I  procure 
in  Paris  the  photograph  of  Molitaire,  left  by  accident 
in  his  room  at  his  lodgings,  and  when  I  recognize  that 
as  the  same  man  whom  Mr.  Mitchel  suspected  and  trapped 
into  stealing  the  ruby  ;  and  when  upon  my  return  to 
New  York,  I  find  that  ruby  upon  that  very  man,  and 
recover  it,  then  we  have  some  facts  that  do  count." 


278  AN    ARTIST    IN    CRIME. 

"  You  recovered  the  ruby  ? "  said  Mr.  Mitchel, 
amazed. 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Barnes,  handing  it  to  Mr.  Mit- 
chel. Mr.  Thauret  bit  his  lip,  and  by  a  strong  endeavor 
retained  his  self-control. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  I  am  sorry  to  dis- 
appoint you,  but  this  is  not  my  ruby." 

"Are  you  sure  ? "  asked  the  detective,  with  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye. 

"  Yes,  though  you  deserve  credit,  for,  though  not  the 
ruby,  it  is  the  stolen  stone.  I  have  a  complete  set  of 
duplicates  of  my  jewels,  and  in  making  my  little  experi- 
ment I  did  not  care  to  bait  my  trap  with  so  valuable  a  gem. 
I  therefore  used  the  duplicate,  which  is  this.  But  how 
have  you  recovered  it  ? " 

"  I  have  been  in  New  York  for  several  days.  I  have 
devoted  myself  during  that  time  to  a  personal  watch 
upon  Montalbon.  Yesterday,  to  my  surprise,  he  went  to 
Police  Head-quarters  and  begged  for  a  permit  to  inspect 
the  stolen  jewels,  saying  that  through  them  he  might 
throw  some  light  upon  the  mystery.  His  request 
was  granted.  Suspecting  treachery  I  subsequently  ob- 
tained a  similar  permit,  and  investigation  with  the  aid  of 
an  expert  showed  that  the  bold  scoundrel  had  handled 
the  jewels,  and  so  managed  to  change  the  imitation  stone 
which  he  stole  at  the  festival  for  the  real  one  in  the  set 
which  figured  in  the  train  robbery." 

"  By  Jove,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  "  he  is  an  artist.     Then 


MR.    BARNES  S    NARRATIVE.  279 

I  am  indebted  to  you  after  all  for  recovering  the  stone, 
but  tell  us,  how  did  you  accomplish  it  ? " 

"  I  overheard  Montalbon  once  say  that  a  wise  thief 
would  keep  a  stolen  article  upon  his  person  so  that  it 
could  not  be  discovered  without  his  knowledge.  There- 
fore I  felt  certain  that  he  would  himself  adopt  this 
method.  When  the  conversation  this  evening  reached  a 
point  where  it  was  evident  that  all  would  be  disclosed, 
the  man,  who  is  present,  dropped  the  ruby  into  his  glass 
of  Burgundy,  where  it  would  be  out  of  sight  and  easily 
recovered,  or  swallowed.  Later  he  attempted  to  dispose 
of  it  in  this  way,  but  I  quickly  drank  his  glass  of  wine, 
the  ruby  thus  passing  into  my  mouth.  And  now  Mr. 
Montalbon,  I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the  law,"  saying 
which,  the  detective  put  his  hand  upon  Mr.  Thauret's 
arm.  The  other  guests  jumped  up,  excited  and  expect- 
ing a  scene.  To  the  astonishment  of  all,  Thauret  re- 
mained quiet  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  speaking 
slowly  and  distinctly,  said  : 

"  Gentlemen,  we  have  heard  several  stories  here  to- 
night, will  you  listen  to  mine,  and  suspend  judgment  for 
a  few  moments  ?  " 

"We  will  hear  you,"  said  Mr.  Mitchel,  marvelling  at 
the  man's  nerve.  The  others  resumed  their  seats,  all 
except  the  detective,  who  stood  just  back  of  his  prisoner. 

"  I  will  trouble  you  to  fill  my  glass,"  said  Thauret  to 
the  waiter,  and  after  being  served,  he  coolly  sipped  a 
mouthful. 


280  AN   ARTIST   IN   CRIME. 

"  I  shall  not  bore  you  with  a  lengthy  recital,"  he  began, 
"  I  shall  simply  make  a  statement.  Society,  the  civilized 
society  of  to-day,  frowns  upon  and  punishes  what  it 
terms  'the  criminal  class.'  Yet  how  many  have  ever  ex- 
amined into  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  analyzed 
the  causes  which  make  the  criminal  a  possibility  ?  The 
life  of  such  a  man  is  not  so  inviting  that  one  would  adopt 
it  from  choice,  one  I  mean  who  had  moral  instincts. 
With  the  naturally  immoral  it  would  be  otherwise,  of 
course.  But  if  one  be  born  immoral,  who  is  to  blame  ? 
The  individual  himself,  or  the  antecedents,  including 
both  parentage  and  circumstances  ?  We  pity  the  man 
who  is  congenitally  tainted  with  disease,  and  we  condemn 
that  other  man  who  is  tainted  in  morals,  though  his  con- 
dition is  analagous  and  traceable  to  similar  causes.  Such 
a  man  I  am.  I  confess  that  I  am,  and  always  have  been 
a  criminal,  at  least  in  the  sense  of  acquiring  money  by 
what  are  termed  illegitimate  methods.  But  you  will  say, 
Mr.  Barnes,"  turning  for  a  moment  to  the  detective,  and 
thus  whilst  speaking  to  him,  attracting  his  attention,  so 
that  unnoticed  he  dropped  a  small  white  pellet  into  his 
glass  of  wine,  "that  I  worked  for  the  jewelry  house. 
Well,  whatever  I  am,  I  have  aimed  to  be  artistic,  as  Mr. 
Mitchel  admitted  of  me  a  few  moments  ago.  By  seem- 
ing to  earn  an  honest  living,  I  blinded  the  keen  eyes  of 
the  Paris  police,  so  that  though  many  suspicions  have 
been  cast  in  my  direction,  conviction  has  always  been 
impossible.  So  now,  whilst  pretending  to  explain  to  you 


MR.  BARNES'S  NARRATIVE.  281 

all,  I  have  explained  nothing.  I  simply  designed  to  pre- 
vent conviction  of  the  crimes  charged  against  me,  as  I 
do,  thus." 

With  a  swift  movement  he  drained  his  wine-glass, 
though  Mr.  Barnes  attempted  to  prevent  him.  In  ten 
minutes  he  was  dead. 


THE  END. 


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